Pen Name
by Claire Jefferson
Summary: Stiles is a published writer under a pen name. Derek is a famous actor and book nerd staring in the movie adaption as the main character. The two boys meet and their worlds collide, but neither imagined love to be anthing like this.
1. Were We Strangers

**Okay, so imagine for a moment that I understand this is not realistic. Please put on a pair of "suspension of disbelief" goggles and just enjoy the story.**

**Now, Stiles is meant to be like JK Rowling big (long live the queen). Please accept that I am not and cannot write as amazingly as some. This story is kind of choppy and not everly edited. I apologize in advance.**

* * *

The set was busy; people bustled about with their various jobs. No one seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn't care, as the gangly boy looked about nervously. He was all skin and bones, a track of moles across his light skin. He carried a bag across his shoulders, a coffee cup in his left hand and a curious look on his face. There was nothing remarkable looking about him at all, and perhaps, that was the most remarkable thing.

His bag was heavily weighted with three books, several pens and pencils, a notebook, a laptop, and a stack of folders. Each item was placed in the bag with careful hands and an organized system. It was about the only thing he kept organized. On the strap of the bag there were several pins of odd sayings or pictures of iconic characters from things like _Doctor Who_ and _The Lord of the Rings._

'_Are you sure about this, Stiles?'_ he asked himself. And really, he didn't have an answer. The young man shuffled his feet about as he stood in the middle of chaos, a mass of people building and creating things all about him.

Stiles was well aware of how the following events were to take place. It had been decided and carefully planned out exactly how the following weeks would go. But here and now it was real, and Stiles' panic was taking rein of his breathing. He fidgeted again, taking in a deep breath that seemed to make it worse rather than better. This was a really, really bad idea. But he'd known that coming into this, hadn't he? It had been his own damn curiosity that had brought him here.

Fumbling fingers opened his bag, looking for reassurance that everything he needed was still in there. He did have a habit of leaving things behind. Yes, five folders—large, brown, and neatly labeled were tossed in beside the rest of his things. He relaxed but only slightly. Stiles took a long gulp of coffee that was starting to get cold and then adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder. He was going to make this work—he had to make this work.

Scott stood beside Stiles with more confidence and purpose in his stance. Scott was calmer, more professional than Stiles could ever hope to be. He studied some papers with concentration and remained silent, yet his mouth moved as he read over the words on the pages. Stiles knew what he had to do: just stick to the plan. Stick to the plan and everything would be alright. Scott had never steered him wrong before. It had been Scott, after all, that got the book published in the first place.

"Scott, are you sure we can pull this off?"

The man looked at him from over a clipboard, raising an eyebrow. "Stiles, this is what you wanted."

Stiles nodded quickly, his eyes darting from side to side. "I know. I just feel…a bit queasy. Maybe I should—"

"Stiles," the man snapped with a frown. "You will be fine. You came here for a reason. All of this is only possible because of you. You're great, and you're going to be fine."

"Shh!" Stiles insisted instantly, becoming more alert and suspicious of nearby people. "Scott!"

The corners of his best friend's mouth tugged upward in amusement as he straightened himself. "If you just keep to the plan you'll have nothing to worry about. Your secret will be safe, and you'll have satisfied your curiosity."

Scott had personally chatted with the director, producer, or whoever it was that was allowing Stiles to be there. In return for the packet of information the director could find very useful for his movie, Stiles was given privacy and permission to be there without anyone bothering him.

Stiles sighed. There were few people in the world that knew the secret; fewer had actually met Stiles with said knowledge. The publishing company members that were aware of the real identity of _C. Sparks_ had never met him, save a few. Scott did most of the work for Stiles. It was through Scott that Stiles had been able to keep up the mask for so long.

Scott had been Stiles best friend for as far back as anyone could remember. There wasn't a time in Stiles' life that Scott wasn't a huge part of. Scott had grown up around a publishing company where his Godfather, Deaton worked. That was how, at age sixteen, Scott had known what he wanted to do. Scott and Deaton had worked hard together to get Stiles' book published with the smallest amount of connection to him as they possibly could. With Scott as Stiles' secret inside man, they had invented the pen name "_C. Sparks_" and published the book.

Scott didn't understand, but still never questioned Stiles' anxiety. Stiles wasn't a shy person exactly—but when it came to his writing it was horribly nauseous to think about people know it was he who wrote it. Stiles was also terribly anxious when it came to attention. He was a big chatter box until he was before a crowd. Stiles knew he didn't look like much and the last thing he wanted was for people to judge him by his writings or vice versa.

Never in Stiles's wildest dreams would his series become a best seller. It wasn't long before his books were high in demand. At first it was all very easy, until the books became globally popular and people began to ask _who is C. Sparks?_ After all the time that passed, the strangest thing was that people knew _C. Sparks_ was a pen name, and they liked it. Some people had wild theories about the real identity of the writer, but they had little to go on. The mystery was half the fun, and as the world held its breath for the fifth book to be sold, the filming for the first movie had begun.

Stiles was amazed by the whole thing. He had originally been terrified of publishing his stories. He still was, if he was being honest.

Stiles' plot outline would take eight books. He was attached to the characters, as if they were real people. And apparently, he wasn't the only one. People actually enjoyed the series. It was unbelievable, a big part of Stiles was skeptical.

"You're not staying?" Stiles asked tentatively. "You could stay."

"No," Scott agreed. "Some of us have to work. I'm lucky I could even come here. But the apartment we've got is nice."

Stiles stared at his shoes with a heavy feeling. "Thank you. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

Scott grinned at him fondly before adjusting his coat. "We're best friends, man. I'd do anything for you. Now, I'll be off now. But Stiles, just stick to the plan?"

Stiles nodded. "You know I will."

Scott gave him a look before turning to go. "I know you'll _try_."

* * *

_The air was crisp and cold; each breath was like a chilling swallow of ice. Alexander felt his claws pulling on his skin, reaching outward from his fingers in a powerful display of his anger. He fought to keep down the rage, trying to let the autumn air erode his mind's thoughts. But it was too much. The smell of death hung in the trees, clung to the leaves that seemed to turn their colors faster, polluting the nature of the world with its fierce kiss. He tasted blood from his lips where his fangs were cutting him in his desperate attempt to hold it back. _

_They were dead. They were all dead. She had killed them all._

_"You've spent so much time trying to convince them that you're no monster," she mocked him, "but you can't fool yourself." _

_His eyes narrowed as he turned to her, and he knew from the gleam in her eyes that he looked the part. His fangs and claws and glowing eyes that fed from his rage made him a beast._

_"We're not so different, Alex. But it's survival of the fittest," she smirked with a hot gaze. "Too bad you're all bark and no bite. You stupid mutts and trying to push down what nature has given you."_

_"The same?" he demanded but his voice was a growl of gravel against glass. His breathing was heavy and rugged. "We are nothing alike."_

_She tilted her head, amused. "Your instinct is to kill," she told him as she raised her bow, "and so is mine." And she fired, releasing the silver dipped weapon that would put an end to the anger. _

"Mr. Hale?" came a voice, breaking through the words on the page. The illusion was shattered and the real world replaced that of dark and desperate times.

Derek jerked the book closed, cursing internally for losing his page in his reaction. "What?" he snapped at the interruption.

His heated stare brought him facing a young girl, not much younger than himself. The woman was pretty, with dark hair and eyes. She grinned at him nervously, a hairbrush in her right hand and a bottle of hair product in the other. Allison, one of the makeup girls.

"Sorry," she apologized, stepping back to give him more room. "I didn't mean to startle you. We're ready for you now."

Derek sighed, smiling apologetically at the girl just trying to do her job. "Coming," he murmured lighter, trying to be softer. He found his way to the mirrors and chairs and sank into the familiar cushion. He set the book lightly on the table, out of her way but not out of his mind.

Derek knew that he was never exactly what people expected him to be. For the world, the media that filmed him for short periods of time and took quick pictures of him grinning, he was the friendly, charming Derek Hale. But Derek acted because he enjoyed acting, not because he enjoyed fame.

Being famous didn't bother him exactly, but he had been in the limelight from childhood. Derek knew how to smile, what to say, how to promote things. Derek knew how to give people what they wanted. No one really cared who he was as a person. No one was interested in him. Not really.

"That's the fourth book, right?" Allison asked, nudging towards the book as she pulled out her supplies. "Rereading it or first time?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "I did decide it would be a good idea to read all the books before we started filming. Obviously I've read it before."

Allison's cheeks heated a bit as she looked away, whether it was of anger or embarrassment he did not know. "Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn't really think…"

Derek sank down into his chair, feeling like a jerk again. "No, sorry, I just haven't had any caffeine this morning. I think I've read each book a thousand times; I can't wait for the fifth to come out."

The girl seemed to relax a bit, smiling fondly at the book. "Me either. I think everyone's in love with the series. I was so excited when I got the news for the movie."

_Me too_, Derek thought but remained silent as she began working, humming a tune softly. She was a nice girl, Allison Argent. She was a very talented makeup artist, but she was hired for the particular movie because wherever Lydia went, Allison followed. It was one of Lydia's demands. A funny demand really, but even if someone said Allison only got the job because of Lydia, no one could dispute her skill.

The Argents were all into the makeup and special effects industry like the Hales were in entertainment. Allison was just a chip off the old block. She had won so many awards for someone her age. It was downright amazing. And God knew for this movie makeup and special effects would be important.

The person seated in the chair just to his left leaned over. "Derek! Getting the war paint on too then?"

Derek glanced over to see Isaac Lahey staring at him, holding his script with a cheesy, dimpled grin.

Like Derek, Isaac had been acting for ages. This movie was not the first they were both a part of, but it had been many years since they had last been in a movie together. Derek liked him well enough, though everyone liked him. He was the kind of guy that anyone could get along with. Isaac was almost unbearably kind. He came from an average family so his success was all to himself, unlike Derek who had been born into the entertainment business. That was not to say Derek was any less of an actor. Many were of the opinion that Derek Hale was one of the best actors seen in cinema.

"Isaac," Derek nodded, sharing the smile though his was considerably smaller. "It's good to see you."

Isaac cocked his head to the side playfully. "It's been awhile, Derek. But I'm excited to work with you again. You really haven't changed a bit"

Derek snorted, shaking his head. Derek had never been good at being social. Sure, he could put up a face for pictures, interviews, and acting in general. But Derek didn't care for people too much. He just liked acting. Three months of filming for hours and hours each day. As the main role Derek would spend a good deal of time on the set. Isaac also would be there for a good portion of the time as well. Then it was time to promote, edit, and wait.

They were, of course, already talking about filming dates for the second movie.

Allison finished with him so Derek stood to pick up the book once more and make his way out of the busyness of the set. If he was lucky he'd have several moments before they needed him. He walked, pulling the book open to where he had left off.

When the first book came out it was no big deal. It rested in the book stores, just waiting, like any other book. The very first few readers would have walked up and picked it up, _The Hunted_ by _C. Sparks_. Some would read it, some would not, but by the time the second book came out, everyone had heard about it.

The books were huge all over the world. People ranted and raved like lunatics and Derek, despite the impression he might give off, was one of them. Derek had always loved to read. As an actor he had learned to love it because his life meant a whole lot of long plane and car rides. But of all the books he had read, never had he read anything that measured up.

The first four books had been huge hits, and in almost half a year the fifth book would be on shelves everywhere. Derek already had his preordered and everything.

When Derek was offered a part in the movie, he didn't hesitate to take it. If he hadn't gotten a part he would have begged and pleaded if that was what it took. Turns out that he was who they wanted for the main man anyway. No part had ever excited Derek quite like this one.

Alexander was a man of action, a man of strength, but he was a fire-cracker of wit and power that could make people follow him with his words alone. Derek idolized the character that always said the dumbest things until it counted and suddenly the words that came out were wise and astounding. The story had a little bit of everything. Magic, fighting, romance, morals, deep characters and plots, and a writing that didn't just let you get excited about the book—it brought you into it. And perhaps that was it—the mystery that strung everyone along: _C. Sparks._

Everyone knew it was a pen name and that the man or woman's real identity was a huge deal that the publishing companies guarded like military secrets. Sure, lots of people speculated about the writer, but Derek figured they were all wrong. But if he could meet anyone—anyone in the whole wide world—it would be _Sparks_. He'd like nothing more than to shake the hand of a genius that wrote the series.

"Oof!" came a squeak as someone toppled over and onto the floor.

Derek stumbled back, waving his arms about a moment, barely staying upright as they collided.

"Ow," came a slow groan at Derek's feet.

Derek looked down slowly to see the person he had run into hadn't been as lucky as him. He was a scrawny boy about his age, with sharp elbows and a pale complexion covered with moles. The young man was good looking in a pretty way and clumsy looking in a cringing way. He was sprawled on his back across the floor in an unfortunate landing. The boy looked up with a dazed expression and something that resembled confusion.

"Oye, you're not hurt, yeah?"

The boy blinked up at him before his eyes widened. His eyes flew to his bag and then his hands stretched down to his laptop that was half out of the bag. He picked it up quickly, opening it up and then sighing with relief. "Not broken."

"You're lucky, then," Derek growled with irritation now that the boy seemed unharmed. "You should have been looking where you were going."

His warm brown eyes narrowed as he looked up incredulously at Derek. "Look who's talking! You weren't paying any attention to where you were going. You just_ bulldozed_ me over!"

Derek knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the boy was right and that Derek had his nose far down into the book he hadn't even thought about looking up. But he just gripped the book tighter and glared back. "I gather you're just a clumsy idiot."

The pale face went pink around his cheeks as he gaped at Derek, but remained silent. His eyes drifted to rest on Derek's hand where the fourth _Hunted_ book was hanging limply at his side. The corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment before he got to his knees and pulled himself on to his knees to make like he was going to stand. "You like it, then?"

Derek stared down with narrow eyes as the boy collected himself. "What?"

The boy stopped, gesturing towards the book at Derek's side. "The book. I mean, you were so engrossed by its contents I figured you must have been really into it."

Derek stiffened slightly, unsure of what to make of the strange boy. He watched him stand slowly; long, skinny limbs unfolding around him. He couldn't be that much younger than Derek himself, who was 26 at the moment. "The movie being filmed does happen to be about the series," Derek rolled his eyes with a huff. "Not that it's any of your business what I do in my spare time."

"Right," the boy nodded, looking away. "They're not that good. I don't really see what all the fuss is about."

Derek was surprised to the see the boy was roughly the same height as himself but without any muscle or shoulders of any kind. He stood all skin and bone while his mouth twisted into a confusing smug look. Derek had a moment to wonder if the boy ate at all before the stranger's words registered in his head. "You don't like the books?"

Stiles shrugged. "They're alright."

Derek snorted, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever heard them described as anything but amazing. Are you alright in the head? Have you even read them?...You can read, can't you?"

Stiles glared as his jaw twitched. "I've read them. I just figure everyone's only so in love with them because they like the mystery of who wrote it. They all want to know who _Sparks_ is but…well once the world knows, they won't care anymore."

Derek couldn't believe anyone could be so stupid. Sure, there was the allure of mystery that the media had found, but the real magic was found in the breathtaking adventures in the pages. "Who are you? What do you do here?"

"Stiles," the boy said gruffly, dusting himself off, "Stiles Stilinki. I'm—uh—just a hand around here. I just do—err—whatever needs…done."

"Stiiles Stilinki? Is that even a real name?" Derek studied him for a moment, squinting as if he were unsure. "Well, as intelligent and fascinating as it was to meet you, _Stiles_," Derek slurred sarcastically, "I do hope we never _run into_ one another again. I actively try to avoid idiots. "

He stepped around Stiles, sidestepping and clearing himself a nice path quickly away.

"Just who the hell do you think you are, asshole?" Stiles demanded. His voice followed after Derek, more amused than angry at the jab that Derek had just thrown his way.

Derek looked over his shoulder in confusion. "I thought you knew. I'm Derek Hale—I'm playing Alexander in the movie…" And just like that, he kept walking and forgot all about the encounter.

Stiles stopped in amazement, blinked about and went very still for a moment. _Derek Hale._ No wonder the boy had looked so familiar to him. His palm came up to smack his face as he went red and felt very, very sick.

Maybe he should call Scott and just go home.

* * *

Derek was covered in warm, red, sticky liquid that a glance would tell a person it was blood. It stained his shirt and dripped down from his fingers. He was deathly white as he stared down at his shaking hands, a strong contrast from the deep red that burned across his skin. He swallowed hard and then let out a loud, jagged breath. His eyes once again swept over the body he knew was lying there.

The man on the floor was next to where Derek knelt: motionless and even paler than him. His eyes were open still, staring off into nothing within the brightly lit room. He was in a pool of blood that could be none but his own.

Derek jumped up and away from the man, staring downwards at himself once more. Derek's eyes began to water as the full extent of what had just happened reeled through his mind. "I killed him," he whispered to no one, the horror and fear of the situation slipping into his voice. "… I killed him." He looked up quickly, as if expecting another person to be standing within the walls of the room, but none stood there.

Instead, crumbled up in a ball on the floor, peering through long strands of red hair, was a girl. Her back was against the wall with her hands around her knees. Bright eyes stared back at Derek with fear and…something else. Awe? Confusion? "What are you?" she murmured with a breathy voice. Her tone suggested she knew him, as if he were familiar—yet now, so foreign.

Derek looked between her, his hands, and the body on the floor before meeting her eyes. "We need to go."

She pulled her knees tighter, her fingers grasping at the ripped cloth of her dress. "You're one of them—one of the shifters." It wasn't a question. It was hardly a statement. It was a shaky acknowledgement of the truth that seemed unreal, unfathomable.

Derek swallowed hard, stepping towards her but stopping as she flinched. Her eyes were wide with fear—whether it was of him, his wolf or just in general, it was hard to tell. He hesitated before wiping the blood across his pants, freeing his hands from the warm evidence of death. "Don't you trust me? You've known me since we were kids." but the words wore choked and grainy as his fear and confusion built.

She released her knees slowly, standing on shaky legs while she held the tattered remains of her dress up. Her free hand grasped the sheet of the bed and pulled it towards her while her eyes remained fixed on Derek. "I thought I knew you," she told him what laid heavy in his ears. "Looks like you've been keeping secrets, Alex." She wrapped the blanket around her body. "They say you guys are monsters—killing machines. They say you only lust for blood."

Derek looked to the body on the floor, "We're the monsters? Vera," he whispered her name. "Are you alright?"

The girl pushed back her red hair to meet his eyes and said, "He was going to—" her voice choked off. "You…you saved me."

"Saved you," he repeated and stared at his hands, as if he would find them to be not his own, but the claws of a monster. He looked back up at her. "Vera, we have to go."

"Go where?" she replied before looking towards the body. "What do we do with him?"

Derek followed her gaze and took in a deep breath. He shook his head; he didn't know.

"Cut!" someone yelled and the tension slipped away.

Stiles smiled from his hiding spot, out of the way but with the perfect view of the set. Stiles hadn't realized they went over the same scene so many times.

He was excited to see how the movie would look for a scene like that—how they'd make the transformation work. Special effects could work wonders because right now Derek looked pretty strange throwing his hands up, and the man suddenly smashing into the wall.

_Derek Hale._ Stiles had known the name of course, he'd seen lots of movies with the man in them, but it hadn't connected or registered right away. He was a bulky man with big shoulders, dark features, and a bright smile. He seemed charming.

When they were trying to do casting, Stiles had heard Derek's name come up. He had the perfect build and physical attributes he would have recalled of his character. Plus, everyone knew he was a brilliant actor. Yet the first moment of meeting and Stiles had made an ass of himself. Not that Derek had come across as an especially wonderful person himself, nor did he know or care who he had run into.

Stiles reached for his phone as the screen lit up.

P

**Scott: **_Having fun?_

**Stiles: **_It's interesting_

**Scott: **_Let me know if you need anything. txt me when you get home. We'll play video games?_

**Stiles: **_Sure thing, buddy. See you then_ _J_

~~~P

Stiles looked down where his laptop rested on his knees. He hadn't actually expected to write while watching them film, but he thought a few notes here and there, for when ideas spun themselves, would help. He was a curious person at heart and he wanted to see the magic, his only demand before they began to make movies out of his book besides being able to okay the script.

Stiles didn't intend to come often. He had an apartment rented out with Scott not far from where they were filming. It was a big building with more money in it than anything Stiles had ever seen. But Stiles had come to escape California, in hope that a change in scenery would be able to help him write.

He only planned to stop in once or twice a week for a bit, see the specific scenes he was dying to see.

People liked his books, they were a bit obsessed even. It felt like the weight of anticipation, the expectation of amazing, was crushing him. Stiles didn't think he could ever live up to their hope.

Stiles had written his plot outline for an eight book series. He knew exactly how he wanted it to go—even if some bits sort of wrote themselves.

The fifth book had just been handed over nearly three months ago to be edited, printed, and whatever else needed doing. But now, hoping to write book six, he was coming up empty handed.

Stiles never did actual writing anywhere but within the confines of his own bedroom, where it was quiet, safe, and perfectly peaceful. But jotting down ideas, researching, writing little side stories that would never really be in the book—these he did while in coffee shops, in libraries, in taxis, and apparently movie sets.

"You alright?"

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin. His whole body jerked and he had to clutch at his laptop quickly to prevent it from falling over. He did not however, squeak. Or if he did—it was a very manly squeak.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she said, a stitch of amusement in her tone. "I didn't mean to startle you. It's just, you're all here alone in the back and you looked rather stressed. I just thought I'd—uhh…well, make sure you're alright."

She was a pretty girl, his age, give or take a few years. She had darker hair and eyes, and was overall an intelligent and friendly looking girl. She had a few tattoos, an elegant bow and arrow etched across her arm.

Stiles let out a bark of laughter. He set his laptop beside him and gave her an easy smile. "No, you're fine. I'm just overly jumpy. But I like it back here. You can see everything but I can't quite get in anyone's way."

The tension left her shoulders as an easy smile pulled at her lips. "Oh, it can be rather fun to watch, can't it? You don't have to be all the way back here though, you know."

Stiles shrugged, content. "Ehh, it's less busy back here."

She looked about for a moment. "I suppose it is. "

"I'm Stiles, by the way," he said, extending a hand to her.

She grinned and took the hand, shaking it lightly. "I'm Allison, Allison Argent. But if you want to watch it closer you can come over by the makeup area and sit with me. It's not too busy there either and you can still hear what they're saying."

"I appreciate the offer," Stiles said sincerely, sharing the smile before dropping her hand.

"What were you doing anyway?" she asked, glancing down at his laptop.

Stiles put a hand down on it, smiling wide, "why, I'm really a very famous blogger and I have to keep my blog up to date."

She snorted, shaking her head, as she caught the laugh in his eyes. "Of course, I should have guessed. What is your blog about?"

"Movie actors that are really quite rude," Stiles confided with a serious tone.

Allison nodded with a strict understanding. "Oh yes, I'm sure it's very popular."

"Extremely. I'm an internet sensation."

"I wouldn't doubt it," she said. "Do tell, who is your latest topic?"

Stiles put a finger to his lips, "I can't reveal such a big spoiler."

"Of course," she put a hand over her heart dramatically, her face grave and serious before bursting with a smile. "I expect you've met Derek then. I've gotten to know a few of the actors and he can come across as rather…cold…but he's not so bad. I've worked a lot with his family and…well, Derek has always been great for the cameras but he'd rather be alone most of the time. Lydia…well, she's a real sweetheart once you get to know her. Derek, he seems all grand on camera because he's a great actor but he isn't very social. He can be a bit…intimidating."

Stiles shrugged, shaking his head with a smile. "Well, he's an actor."

"Well I better go. A new scene will be filmed soon and I expect they'll need me. But you're welcome to interact with civilization if you catch the fancy."

"What is it that you do?" Stiles wondered. "You're not an actress, are you?"

She blushed at that, a half smile on her face as he eyes dropped to the ground. "No, nothing of the sort. I'm a makeup girl. Makeup is in my blood though. Werewolves…well that sounds like a real fun challenge. It's a fun job. Meet a lot of interesting people that way."

"Would I be one of them?" Stiles joked.

But she raised her eyebrows and nodded with a smirk. "Most definitely."

As she turned to leave, however, a figure neared and called her name.

"Oh, Derek," she exclaimed loudly, blinking in surprise.

"Allison," he nodded. "Erica was looking for you, but she was busy so I volunteered to come find you."

Allison frowned with her teeth showing, a comical face, Stiles supposed. "Opps, I'd better go see what she wants. Bye, Stiles!" She called last second before dashing.

Derek swung his head and caught sight of Stiles for the first time and furrowed his eyebrows as if trying to recall something. Stiles remained quietly staring back before Derek snapped and pointed, "Ahh! The clumsy set-hand from last week!"

Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. "That was yesterday."

"Right," Derek said disinterestedly. "What are you doing back here? Shouldn't you be working?"

Stiles smiled largely, "I am working."

"Oh?" Derek raised a disbelieving and mocking eyebrow. "And what exactly are you working on?"

"Can't tell," Stiles whispered like a conspiracy. "Its top secret military stuff."

"Mmm," Derek murmured, "I'm sure."

"What about you?" Stiles snapped. "Shouldn't you be doing something?"

Derek glared at him. "I'm on break, and you happen to be in my spot."

Stiles glanced around the back where boards from sets already used and sets yet to be put up were kept. "Your spot?"

Derek gestured his hand to reveal a book instead of replying.

"Ahh, a quiet place to read. But haven't you got a trailer or something for that?" Stiles couldn't help but be annoyed at the actor, stepping close to Stiles as if he might intimidate him away. "I've been here all day. I'm not going to move."

"Yes you are," Derek warned heatedly. "And they're doing something noisy outside my trailer currently and it's quiet over here. Or at least—It was."

Stiles grimaced at him, waving his hands at the large area to his right. "Well, if you're not going to be annoying—which I doubt you can achieve—have at it. But I'll be typing, and that can be distracting I suppose. Do you get distracted easily? Maybe you should wait it out. Or I bet you could wear headphones! I'd lend you a pair but I haven't got any on me. I can't stand sound when I'm trying to do something. My ADD kicks in and I can't focus. Are you the same way?"

Derek's eyes turned to daggers on Stiles until he picked his laptop back up and began to type furiously onto the keyboard. It was quite amazing, really, how fast the slim fingers tapped on the laptop. Seeming to decide Stiles' typing was less annoying than the construction outside his trailer Derek sat down with a huff and opened his book.

Stiles looked at him out of the corner of his eye and his lips twitched into an almost grin before he looked back to the screen. He hadn't had any intention on actually beginning to write a scene in the book but—well the words wanted to come now. Stiles wondered if it was because he had needed a little human interaction.

Derek turned his page with a quick, easy feeling. He had the time since they were filming a scene that didn't include him for the time being. However, time passed and soon he was a good hour into his book. He peeked up, watching Stiles' fingers tap onto the keys with quick precision. He seemed engrossed with whatever he was doing and after a minute of restlessness, Derek spoke.

"What are you typing?" His voice came out gruff and unfriendly.

"Words. What are you reading?" Stiles shot back without looking up.

"Words," Derek slurred back with an eye roll.

Stiles stopped typing to look up at Derek for a moment. "I'm writing. Putting thoughts and ideas and such on paper. Just a bit of private writing." He glanced at Derek's book.

Derek hesitated a moment before lifting it up to reveal the cover.

Stiles nodded and his eyes returned to his laptop, resuming typing. "So you finished that _Sparks _book. Moved onto a classic, huh? I must say, I've never really been a big fan of Hemingway, but" he shrugged, "to each their own."

"I suppose my taste is just more refined," Derek snapped and then halted. "Hang on. _You've_ read Hemingway?"

Stiles blinked at him, ceasing typing once more. His eyes narrowed almost comically as his face didn't really suit the dark look. "Hard to believe? _Across the River and Into the Trees_ was not a book I've read before but I have read some Hemingway. I should think there are few classic authors I haven't read. I'm actually quite surprised you've had the time to pick up things like that. It isn't exactly light reading."

"I like reading," Derek said plainly, his eyes glaring at Stiles. "An actor likes reading. Who cares?"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Stiles objected and then sighed heavily. "You know, from the interviews and movies and all that crap…you always seemed to be more…happy."

"I'm an actor," Derek deadpanned.

"So why not act now?" Stiles questioned, fanning his hands.

Derek snorted. "It's an act for those whose opinions actually matter."

Stiles blanched. "I matter."

Derek gave him a glance of disbelief once more. "You're—" But he was cut off by the loud sound of "Hale on set!" in a sharp voice. Derek stood quickly, "I've got to go."

He was almost out of ear shot when Stiles said, "bye."

Derek spun on his heels and locked eyes with Stiles before smirking, nodding and then heading back to his life.

* * *

Four days later and when Derek came to read this time Stiles noticed that the book he was carrying was new. "Oh, finished the other one then? What have you got now?"

Pretending to be annoyed, Derek held up the book he had not yet begun. "Have you nothing better to do than sit with that computer all day?"

Stiles was about to make a snippy reply but his face turned to horror as he froze at the sight of the novel. "You aren't! You can't read that. It's awful. Don't even try to start it."

Derek paused to give Stiles a look. "But it's a classic," Derek protested. He looked almost offended.

"That doesn't mean it's good!" Stiles told him, reaching over to rip the book out of Derek's hands. But Derek moved it away and sneered at Stiles.

"Just because you wouldn't know a good book if it knocked you in the head doesn't mean—"

"Fine," Stiles threw his hands up. "Read that repulsive thing someone was stupid enough to call literature! See if I care! Suffer!"

Derek rolled his eyes and then sat down, opening the book dramatically and choosing to ignore Stiles until the boy looked at the time and realized he had to be going.

As Stiles went, he looked back to see Derek's frustrated expression as he tried to read. Stiles smirked as he went off to find and say goodbye to Allison, shaking his head in amusement.

* * *

Two days later Derek and Stiles were back.

"Okay," Derek said with a reluctant admittance, "it's terrible."

"I know," Stiles said without looking up from his laptop.

"I couldn't even make it through the first three chapters. It was painful."

"I know."

"I thought if it was so highly thought of then it must be good. I just wanted to read a good book!"

"I know," Stiles said but this time he held up his right and towards Derek with a book.

Derek raised his eyebrows in surprise but slowly took the book from Stiles's grasp. "What is it?"

When there was no reply Derek sat down slowly to begin reading. It wasn't long before he was very into the book. And there they sat for two more hours in the silence, until Derek was called back to the set.

* * *

By the time Stiles and Derek saw each other next, Derek had finished the book.

"So what do you do when you're not here? Some days you're here and then the next you're not. But it isn't consistent," Derek commented from behind, making Stiles jump. "Are you doing anything actually constructive or just sitting elsewhere?"

"Jesus," Stiles gasped, snapping his laptop shut. He put a hand over his racing heart, glaring at Derek for the impromptu heart attack. "I'm at home, where it's far more peaceful and there are less jerks to sneak up on me!"

Derek snorted but didn't apologize.

"Well?" Stiles asked, seeing the book in his hands.

Derek suppressed a smile, meeting Stiles' eyes and then quickly looking away. "It wasn't terrible."

"Wasn't terrible? That's 1984! _That's_ a classic."

Derek just shrugged, handing it back but looking sideways at Stiles. "Got any other suggestions?"

"I might," Stiles said with a drawl but he produced a new book: _The Count of Monte Cristo_, without comment. "I have impeccable taste in literature."

Derek snorted but accepted the book. He looked down at it and then at Stiles whose laptop was now set aside, forgotten. He set the book down and sat. "Too bad your clothing taste isn't as good."

Stiles frowned and then stuck out his tongue. "We can't all have personal shoppers."

"I do my own shopping, thank you!" Derek declared, glaring.

"Mhmm," Stiles agreed sarcastically. "I'm sure."

"I do! I do most things for myself. Being famous didn't leave me as a permanent child."

"Really?" Stiles raised a challenging eyebrow. "So, besides acting, what can you do?"

"I—I can change a tire," Derek said after a moment. "And I can juggle."

Stiles stared at him for a moment but then burst into deep fits of laughter

Derek stayed stone faced, but in a few passing moments he too was doubled over with a red face from laughter.

* * *

"Stiles," Isaac's head popped in with a plate a food, "you have to try these."

Stiles jumped at the voice, turning from his laptop to the voice. "What?"

Lydia and Isaac stood there with wide eyes and a plate of food. Isaac was nodding vigorously, holding the plate towards him with the most amazed expression ever.

Lydia laughed then, looking at Isaac and then at Stiles. "These sandwiches are to die for so we stole a few to bring to you because they'll be gone in a moment on account of the fact that they are heavenly. Seriously, Stiles, eat one."

Stiles felt like sinking into the ground as he reached out slowly to take a sandwich off the offered tray of food. "Thank you? But—uhh….how do you know who I am?"

Isaac and Lydia seemed taken aback at that and then Isaac laughed.

"That's right! We haven't actually talked before, have we? Uh, Allison is like Lydia's bestest friend in the whole wide world which is why she's basically always with Lydia in everything she's ever in. She's good with makeup so that's good. I think they went to school together or something. But, anyway, Allison talks about you…and so does Derek. He actually smiles sometimes now, like without a camera in his face. It's amazing. I didn't actually think he knew he could do that."

Stiles stared silently and looked down at the sandwich and back up.

Lydia smiled small, like she had perfected the perfect picture smile, before setting the tray next to Stiles. "You look like you could use some food. But hi, I'm Lydia and this is Isaac. We're friends of Allison and…well, we work with Derek. We thought we'd stop over to say good afternoon. Derek's filming right now."

"Ahh," Stiles said cursing himself for his wonderful articulation abilities.

"So," Lydia said as she sat cross legged next to him and eating a sandwich, "how did you make Derek talk to you? He would never talk to anyone if he didn't have to."

Isaac sat down as well, picking up to sandwiches and double timing it. "Tell me, Stiles, how do you make Derek laugh?"

* * *

"What is it about?" Derek repeated the question. He thought about it for a moment before replying. "Well, in a world quite a bit different than our own, there are shape shifters—werewolves. These people are born with a shifting ability—a great strength and power. The people of this world are taught that these people are monsters by the hunters—the people that kind of rule this world."

"Oh, sounds brutal," the interviewer replied. "Are werewolves dangerous? Bad?"

"No, no not all of them," Derek quickly reassured her, scoffing at the very idea with a smile. "In fact, the story's protagonist is a young, werewolf named Alexander. His secret is revealed while trying to save his best friend: a girl named Vera, who is played by the lovely Lydia Martin. Alexander spent his whole life doing what his mother told him to—hiding his true self. But he makes a choice to save his friend and bring about change for his kind."

"And we're so excited to see the movie and see how each relationship is portrayed. Vera and Alex are pretty close…but what about you and Lydia?"

"Oh," Derek laughed, "we're good friends. Lydia is fantastic to work with. The cast and I spend a lot of time together. They're great friends. Danny is hysterical and Isaac is one of the most loyal people you'd ever meet. You have to keep an eye out for Erica and her practical jokes though. We all get along so well."

"Such a big cast," the interviewer continued, "is it hard to get work done?"

The interview continued as normal as they went. The interviewer, a pretty, young brunette woman, asked about the cast members, asked about Derek's personal life, and then got all serious.

"Alright, Derek," she said as she leaned forward and smiled, "now there is one thing everyone wants to know about: _C. Sparks._"

Derek nodded knowingly, shifting in his chair. "Yeah, the whole world wants to know about _Sparks_."

"Have you met him—or her before?"

Derek gave a half grin in a regretful way. "No, I haven't had the pleasure. The mystery of _Spark_'s identity is as much a puzzle for me as everyone else. But before we began filming everyone on the cast received an envelope with details about their characters—brief explanations of things that they personally were meant to know so they could develop their character fully. I have no idea what was in anyone else's folder and I'm the only one beyond the director that knows what's inside my own." As Derek talked his eyes brightened. "It was actually pretty cool, getting notes for the character from the author."

The interviewer straightened up at that, an interested smile playing across her face as she looked at him with glee. "Oh, now you have to tell us a bit about what you were given!"

But Derek just laughed, "ahh, no no no. Sorry."

"Please," she pleaded, "just a little."

Derek considered her for a moment, "I wouldn't want to make _Sparks_ upset. But I'll tell you the very first thing he said in his letter. He wanted to make sure I knew exactly what the books were about," Derek winked. "His actual words were: _This is a story about monsters, not the werewolves with sharp fangs and claws—but the people invested in destroying what they see as different and dangerous. This story is about the monsters found in the world that without fangs and claws, but are not in any way harmless._ But that's all I can tell you, sorry! The rest is confidential stuff."

The interviewer looked very disappointed but Stiles let out a sigh of relief as he shut off the television and finished packing up his bag. Derek wasn't anything like Stiles had expected right away, nor was he what he had seemed the first time they had met. Stiles hadn't been on set in several days now, but the book was finally starting to come along. Five days on nonstop writing begged for a break.

Several drafts were thrown about his bedroom and saved on his laptop and hard drive. He was doing well, with the amount of beginnings and bits and pieces he'd already written for the book. But what he needed right now, was a break.

Stiles thought about what Derek had said in the interview and hummed softly to himself. A lot of people assumed that Vera and Alexander would get together in the series. They were best friends. They were both good looking and they were close. But Derek was one of the few people who knew that wasn't going to happen on the account that his character, the powerful, rough werewolf, Alexander was gay.

Stiles had created several folders, one for each actor to give them little snips of information not yet revealed in the series. Lydia was the only other of the actors privy to the information that Vera and Alexander just weren't meant to be.

Stiles put his head phones in and grabbed his keys. He left his apartment with a deep breath and a smile.

For Derek, on set it was already working up to being a long day, and it was hardly noon. Derek sighed, rolling his shoulders back absent mindedly. The time between takes seemed agonizingly long. The heat of the hot summer day was over powering.

When Derek looked over to see a familiar face talking to Allison he smiled. It was a face he'd reluctantly had become very familiar with. He would never admit it, but he was relieved to see Stiles was back. It had been awhile since he'd seen him last.

"Stiles!" Derek called from the set as they prepared another film run.

Stiles whipped around, searching for the source of the bellow before his eyes locked with Derek. He raised a questioning eyebrow, a faint smirk on his face. "What?"

"Dorian Gray had it coming! He was an idiot!"

Stiles' smile grew and he opened his mouth to reply, but heads turned to look at him, curious as to who Derek was talking to. Stiles felt his face heat up, unable to stand the stares that found him. Stiles stumbled, turning quickly away, and sank back into the shadows.

Not for the first time Derek wondered about the strange boy. Stiles was a mysterious man who seemed to be able to talk forever without really saying anything. His smile was always there and never forced. It was refreshing.

"Derek?"

Derek blinked and turned to find expectant eyes on him, waiting.

"Right," he shook his head, pulling himself back into character. "Sorry."

But hours later, when Derek was able to pull some hours to read, he found Stiles sitting in his usual spot, a batman shirt on and a giant grin.

"I saw your interview today," Stiles said as he saw Derek nearing. He snapped his notebook shut and shoved it back in his bag.

Derek stopped in front of Stiles and sat down slowly, looking tired as could be. "Oh? Did you want my autograph?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"Oh shut up. You're much more charming on TV," Stiles mused, stretching his legs out. "I don't know how you do those all the time."

"Mmmm?" Derek pulled himself next to Stiles so his back was to the wall as well. "Why is that?"

"Oh I'm a very shy person. I'd throw up or something. I'd hate to be famous. People watching you all the time, thinking they know you. I'm a very private person."

Derek turned to gawk at him with an incredulous look. "You? Shy? You never shut up. It's amazing, some of the crap that comes out of your mouth. Do you actually think before you speak?"

"That is so rude! I am a very intellectual person!" Stiles frowned, shaking his head. "But that's different. One on one—normal conversation is fine. But when everyone is looking at me—judging me—I had to write a speech for valedictorian in my year and I threw up in front of everyone. It was terrible."

Derek burst into a loud laugh as Stiles turned red and looked away. "No, no," Derek assured through his deep chuckles, "It could happen to anyone!" But that didn't stop the next bubble of laughter to break out of his mouth. Derek was shaking from laughing so hard when he finally caught his breath.

"Hey! Glossophobia is the number one fear in—shut up! You handle it all very well. I suppose you're used to it," Stiles said, running the idea around in his head. He watched Derek calm down, wiping a tear from his eyes.

"They keep asking me about _Sparks_. I never know what to say. I mean, I'm a huge fan. I'd like nothing more than to sit down with the author and discuss the books—but what do I tell people?"

Stiles looked at Derek out of the corner of his eyes, shifting. "I don't know. You've been doing fine so far."

Derek smiled at that letting another yawn seep through. "You know," Derek said slowly, "once we're done filming I won't be Alexander for like another year, assuming the movie goes well…But it's okay because the next book won't take long before it's out…Just two months now if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, is that so?" Stiles grinned and wondered what he would do without having Derek to bother.

"I do hate waiting," Derek said with a sigh. Derek shut his eyes, letting the silence wash over him. A good minute went by.

Stiles studied Derek for a moment. "You look tired."

"You think so?"

"You'd probably like some silence."

"Come up with that all on your own did you?"

Stiles scowled at him, tugging his notebook back over as Derek began to drift.

An few hours later Stiles felt like the biggest jerk ever when he reached over to wake Derek up. "Get up!" he barked after a few minutes of gently trying to wake the man. "For God's sake, Derek! Wake up!"

In return, Stiles received a bleary glare and a groan. "Go away."

"I am, that's why I'm waking you up," Stiles pushed his leg to kick Derek's arm. "I didn't want to—"

Derek caught the foot however, even with his eyes closed. With the loss of his balance Stiles went crashing down.

"Ow!"

Derek cracked open an eye to smirk.

Stiles strongly suspected that whatever they had been doing outside Derek's trailer was done now.

* * *

"Derek," Lydia said, "the director is looking for you. Hey, Stiles!"

Stiles grinned at Lydia, "hey there, Lydia. How's filming going?"

She put her hands on her hips with a beaming smile, "You tell me! I feel like I'm on top of the world. I just love this story! There is so much to work with. My character is such a bad ass!"

Stiles chuckled, watching Derek stand up from where he'd been slumped into a nap, "I like her too. I think you're doing great. The attitude is shining through perfectly. I think she's a strong character."

Lydia glowed at the appraisal and then grabbed Derek's arm to help him. "Thanks for babysitting this grumpy kid. He's been in a mood all week."

"I have not," Derek argued, glowering at her.

"He totally has, hasn't he Stiles?"

Stiles just shrugged. "This is my first day on set this week. I've been busy."

"Ahh," she snorted, "that explains it."

"Explains what?" Stiles and Derek asked at the same time but Lydia was already busy pulling Derek off to the set.

"Bye Stiles!"

* * *

Time moved by at a quick pace that Stiles couldn't keep up with. Before he knew it, it was the last day on set. Filming was to be finished and the editing was to begin.

"Ahh, I wasn't sure if you were going to come today," Derek said. He fought down a burning smile at the sight of the other man. "I never can tell when you'll be here and when you won't."

Stiles was surprised to see Derek there so early. He didn't have a book, just a smile to offer Stiles's way. "Of course I came," Stiles said with a shrug. "It's the last day. I wasn't going to miss it. I'm not that big of an asshole that I wouldn't say goodbye."

Derek nodded, looking over at Stiles. "It's weird to think I won't be Alexander for another year again….Will you, uh—will you be on the next set?"

Stiles shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I might do, I don't know. Depends."

"Right," Derek nodded, looking quickly away. "Are you going to the party later? Err, almost everyone will be there from cast and crew so I thought—"

"No," Stiles said regretfully, "I'm not really one for parties. Too many people."

Derek nodded, staring at the ground as Stiles sat down next to him. A silence settled over them.

"So what will you do now? Now that you'll have no one to give you books and you have all this extra time on your hands."

Derek sighed, shrugging. "Wait, I guess. Two months and the next book will be out. Then I have another twelve months before we start filming for the sequel. I'm sure I'll have some job between now and then. Nothing in stone yet, but my dad always pushes me to be in as much as I can."

"I'm sure this movie will do very well. You guys seem to be doing really well."

Derek snorted, "Thanks. I'm glad it has _your_ approval."

The two of them just sat there for a while longer, talking and cracking jokes. But it wasn't long before someone came along looking for Derek.

"Derek," Danny called, "come on!"

"Uh, well," Derek said, rolling his shoulders back awkwardly as he stood to leave. "I should go."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "Just, uh, remember not to get a big head when I'm not around to bother you. You're still a moron."

Derek scoffed, "You can't talk to me like that. I'm Derek Hale."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Tssk," he clucked, unimpressed but cracked a smile. "Like I said, big head, you great sourwolf."

Derek stared at him a moment, as if trying to decide something. "You know," he said slowly, "You have to come back next year or Allison and Lydia will be upset."

Stiles looked over at the man slowly, his eyebrow raising. "Oh you know you're going to miss me the most, Derek."

"Yeah," Derek scoffed, shaking his head but not denying it. He eyed the scrawny boy before him and snorted. The humor shone through Stiles's gaze. "Whatever," Derek said spinning around to go.

He was almost out of ear shot when Stiles said, "bye," in a short, soft call.

Derek spun on his heels and locked eyes with Stiles before smiling, nodding and then heading back to his life.

Stiles watched him go, wondering if he'd ever talk to him again. He was the unnaturally gorgeous Derek Hale, Hollywood's king. But as he walked away, Stiles couldn't think of him as anything but the book nerd with a smile that made the world go round.

* * *

**Okay, so you know the drill. Please Review and I will be happy. I have this thing completely written so I should be posting the next chapter very soon after I fiddle with it a bit. There should be 3/4 chapters so, ya know...Rock on and take care**

**oh and btw, my tumblr is (writing-on-lifes-pages) just in case you felt like finding me**


	2. My Secrets Keep Me Safe

"Hey, Scott," Stiles said with the phone tucked tight between his shoulder and ear. His hands were busy pulling things from the cupboard.

_"How are you doing? Not working too hard I hope. Maybe I should send your dad over to check on you."_

"No, no, I'm making food now and everything. It won't be like last time."

_"It better not. You're a great writer Stiles, but you've got to remember to take care of yourself. Sometimes when you get really into your writing…Forgetting to eat, putting off sleep….I'm not saying you shouldn't write, I'm just saying you need to put your health first. Now that the movie is done filming, you hardly get out. Maybe I should have rescheduled my trip…"_

Stiles snorted as he turned on the stove. He threw a pot down, filling it with water quick. "Look, I'm doing fine. I just get distracted, that's all. But I'm pacing myself. The ideas start coming and I can't stop. But I've got an alarm to make myself eat and sleep." Stiles made a face as the pasta spilt onto the floor. "Ahh, Fitzgerald!"

_"What?"'_

"No, I'm just being a klutz. Anyway, you don't need to keep worrying about me. You enjoy your trip!"

_"But—"_

"No, I said I was fine. I'm a grown man, Scott."

The man on the other end sighed, his voice coming out resigned and slow. "_I know that, Stiles. I just worry because I care. I'm your best friend. Anyway, I was calling to let you know your request was approved."_

Stiles paused to grin, "yeah? They'll let me?"

Scott chuckled on the other end, "_yeah, I think it was a great idea. Why so set on sending it, though? Getting them to agree was like pulling teeth. If I didn't know any better I'd say _you_ were crushing on Derek Hale." _

Stiles measured out milk, throwing it into the pot that had begun to boil. "I thought it would be nice, okay? Anyway, I've got to go. Lots to do." Stiles hadn't realized how important Derek had become to him in that short time. Not until he wasn't there anymore.

_"Stiles, do take care."_

"You too, Scotty. Thanks again. See you Sunday for the movie marathon! Bye!" Stiles hung up, pulling things out to set his table for lunch. He tapped his fingers across the counter in frustration.

Derek stared at it was a rapid pulse. He circled the countertop where it sat, eyeing the package with a careful sight. He'd been handed the wrapped delivery when his agent had arrived only moments ago to run a few things by Derek. Peter had gotten the package from a man who apparently worked for _Sparks._

Derek felt nauseous. It was from _Sparks_. The last thing Derek had received from the author was an envelope of notes that he now had nearly memorized from the hours of pouring over them alone as he developed Alexander as a character. On top of the package was a single written name, _Derek Hale_ in handwriting identical to the scribbles written fastidiously across pages in a folder under his bed.

Derek stopped stalking about his kitchen to stop before the package. He stared it down and reached with hesitant hands to pull the package open. From within the brown wrappings were two things: a single white envelope and a heavy object that made Derek's eyes widen. "Oh my God."

One look at the title on the book sucked the breath right out of Derek's lungs. It wasn't meant to be out for another few weeks. His eyes darted to the note. He pulled the envelope open with careful, fast, shaking hands.

_Mr. Derek Hale,_

_A writer can never happier than to see his world brought to life. I could never thank you enough for the brilliant portrayal of Alexander. The character is very near and dear to me, and you played him perfectly. I will forever be amazed by your talent and commitment in your roles, and to none more than that of my own creation. _

_I wanted to thank you but was at a loss for what could possibly show my appreciation. I heard that you liked to read so I was hoping this would be a start. I am excited to see the movie when it is ready. The anticipation is killing me! Thanks again._

_Sincerely,_

_C. Sparks_

_P.S. Though I'm sure this goes without saying, please keep this early print for private reading. I appreciate it._

The letter was short and to the point, but Derek found himself unable to contain his sheer excitement. He set the letter down gingerly in favor of the book. It was beautiful. It held the aroma of newly printed paper and felt heavy in his hands.

He stared down at it long and hard before he was pulling his cellphone out of his pocket and making a call. "Peter? Yeah, I'm fine. No I—could you cancel my plans for today…something's come up. Yeah, I really am fine. Okay, thanks. You too, Peter. Bye." Derek hung up without ever letting his eyes off the book. He set it down once more and sprang into action.

Derek set the coffee going and retreated into his bedroom for a pillow and blanket. He set up shop in the living space, tossing his blanket into the reclining chair with the best light.

The wait was over.

Derek hadn't had a good book to read in so long. Stiles used to give him good reads but…he kind of missed Stiles. He hadn't realized what a huge part of his life Stiles had occupied until he wasn't there anymore. He was sure that if Stiles knew that Derek had the_ Hunted_ book early he would be jealous. Or perhaps he wouldn't care at all.

Derek pulled himself a cup of coffee, brought the book to his lap as he took his first sip, and settled into the chair.

_Adventures always sound exciting until you begin on your way. It is then discovered that they are really just cold, frightening travels that lead to destinations still uncertain._

"I look like a moron," Stiles whined, pulling at the tie around his neck.

Scott batted at his hand, straightening Stiles up and clapping his shoulder. "You look fine. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show. No one is even going to be looking at you."

Stiles huffed, "they better not. I hate this sort of thing. Can't we just wait for it to come out in theatres like normal people?"

John Stilinski gave him a look, "you've been excited about this for weeks." He shook his head with a sigh, "what am I going to do with you?"

Stiles scowled, pulling at his tie again. "I want to see the movie, I didn't think about it through. There are so many people here. And I can't even sink into the background because I look so ridiculous and out of place that people keep giving me weird looks."

"No one is giving you weird looks, Stiles," The Sheriff reassured him. "Besides, I'm excited. We flew in just to be here."

Scott and Sheriff Stilinski were on either side of Stiles as they arrived at the premiere. Stiles was jittery, his eyes shifting around as his heart hammered in his chest. He was nervous and terrified as cameras flashed all around.

But Scott and the sheriff had been right. No one was even looking at Stiles. Per usual, everyone's gaze seemed to go right through him. Not that Stiles was complaining. He hated attention. Sure, he was a social guy, but the moment he was the center of attention Stiles's throat locked up while his stomach spun. Stiles couldn't imagine getting used to that sort of thing.

Stiles's eyes flicked about. Everyone was dressed to the nines with expensive gowns and stiff tuxes that oozed confidence and beauty. But no one that Stiles recognized.

"Isaac!" someone screamed. There was suddenly a roar of excitement as Isaac Lahey stepped into eye view. He was grinning his trademark smirk as camera's flashed rapid fire.

Somehow, even as all the eyes in the world seemed to go through him, Isaac's stopped right on him. He took one look at Stiles and his eyes widened in surprise and recognition. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to call over but Stiles quickly frowned and ducked, pulling Scott and John along to get as far away from the world of the famous as he could. But he peeked back at Isaac when he was sure the man couldn't see him anymore.

Isaac was shaking his head in amusement in the direction Stiles had just left. Lydia was standing next to him now, leaning close to catch the words coming out of his mouth. He whispered something to her before her head shot up and she began skimming the crowd frantically in search of someone out there. But she couldn't see him anymore.

She spun about on her heels with a smile suddenly, grinning for pictures in a sweet innocence that shined through her eyes. But she kept flickering about for a ghost in the crowd.

That was when John leaned over to say something. Stiles didn't really catch what he was saying, just a single name that slipped through his excitement. Stiles whipped around to find a face that had become very familiar to him.

"Derek, Derek Hale!" the people roared his name in shouts and hollers as Derek took big, confident strides through. He signed autographs and took pictures, did interviews and answered passing questions. Derek was the image of perfection. All Stiles could think was, it was good to see him again.

Stiles watched from his place with his father, shifting in his suit.

He could see Derek where he was standing, relaxed and comfortable in the type of apparel Stiles could never get used to. He looked good. He looked damn good. But Stiles made no attempt to reveal he was attending the premiere. He was content to watch, seated next to Scott and his father.

But Stiles wondered if Derek had read the book. He'd sent it quite early. He wondered if the man had liked the story at all, if he had enjoyed the adventure that Stiles had taken within the pages of his story. The note, rewritten half a million times.

Oh, sure, most of the copies told Derek exactly who was sending the book, but Stiles couldn't do it, couldn't send it. He couldn't reveal his biggest secret in the world to a man who could never really care.

The movie was perfect. It was everything Stiles had imagined and more. The parts were depicted perfectly and it was almost surreal how much of it fit the images that had formed in Stiles' mind when he'd written the books.

Derek echoed the words of Alexander in his head. Derek stopped being Derek, and for a short while, he was Alexander.

By the end of the movie, people were leaving, all the fancy dressed men and women, off to parties and big celebrations.

Stiles went home for cake and ice cream, content to sit before his computer and start writing again. The words flowed as his mind wandered and created. Words stretched across the pages in stories of heroics and pain and loss and freedom.

_People always seem to romanticize destiny, like it's some kind of gift to mankind. They envision those great things that they were always meant to be, to do, to create. What few consider is that _fate_ is just another way of saying something is going to happen and there is nothing you can do about it. _

_Me, well I found destiny in the hollers of pain and truth of the wolf. But if I had even the slightest choice, I would have grown old in comfort while handing the responsibility and power off to someone else. I was never one for power, I was always one for freedom. Despite what people seem to think, those two things do not go hand in hand. _

_People keep looking to me for answers now. I had ripped away the lies that I had surrounded myself with, but still I was not free. I was now a slave the world of need. I couldn't be who I wanted to be, I had to be what they needed me to be. I could not enjoy the silence of the forest and find the greatness undiscovered in my own instinct. Instead, I had to find the ability of destruction within its reach while people leaned on me to lead. _

_I was no leader. I was just a man. They searched for a god that I could never be. I was just Alexander, a boy who wanted to save his friend. But no one asked what I wanted. _

_Vera alone seemed to understand. And even she looked to me for answers I did not have._

Stiles kept writing, images of Derek's Alexander whirling and pushing his writing.

"I have a pass to be here," Stiles argued, his face twisting in anger at the man. "Bring the director over, he'll tell you."

"And I told you that unless you can tell me your purpose around here I'm not letting you through," the man said, backing Stiles up. "You're not on the worker list, you're certainly not an actor—"

"I—uh, I help with the set," Stiles fumbled over his words before deciding it just wasn't worth it. "Fine, I'll just go, it's not—"

"Stiles?" came a rough voice.

Upon catching sight of him, Stiles felt like the world had stopped being so loud all of a sudden. Things seemed easier again, and infinitely harder. Stiles fingers and toes seemed to shoot full of warmth.

"Derek!" Stiles smiled at the man, though the tension remained. "Buddy! It's been ages! Uh, you didn't tell this guy to not let me in, did you?"

Derek just grinned softly. "Of course not. I was worried you weren't going to be coming."

And if that didn't make Stiles' grin, nothing would.

Suddenly, Derek straightened, flashing a charming smile and becoming the Derek that always seemed to appear in interviews. "What's the problem?" Derek asked the man.

"This man work on the set here?" the brute wanted to know.

"On the set?" Derek's eyebrows burrowed in confusion. He took one look at Stiles and then back at the man. "Yeah, of course. That's why I'm over here, looking for him. He's needed right now. Doesn't he have permission papers to be here?"

The guy that Stiles assumed was a security guard now looked very uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, he has all the required paper but he isn't on my list of workers so I was wondering what he does here."

"Well," Derek said, squaring his shoulders, "I just told you. So maybe you should let him through so he can get to work." Derek's eyebrows were raised in an expectant manner, as if the man was wasting Derek's precious time.

"Of course," the man agreed, flustered now. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Hale."

Derek grabbed Stiles arm tightly and pulled him towards him. "Come on, Stiles. Only you, I swear."

"Coming," Stiles quickly took off quickly until he was ahead, letting Derek trail behind him. "Oh my God that was awkward. Is he new? It wasn't that big of a deal, I could have just gone home. But thanks for the rescue. I thought that guy was going to rip my arms off! Are Lydia and Allison already here? I have something for them. Scott's mom had this thing and she got them—"

"Stiles!" Derek jogged to keep up. "It's been, like, a year since I last saw you. Can we at least say hello?"

Stiles stopped his quick stride suddenly, turning to face Derek with red tipped ears. "Hi."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Hello, Stiles."

"How you been?" Stiles inquired, all soft voiced and warm smiles. "You're looking good."

"I'm doing well," Derek said in return, returning the smile. "You?"

Stiles rolled his shoulders back, unable to hold still even for a long moment. "Oh, same old same old. Scott's mom and my dad want us back home to California but the work is here. Scott is able to work from here and he thinks I'll kill myself if I'm left alone for too long so he's back in the apartment with me. I tend to forget to eat. Funny, considering how much junk I eat when I do remember. But the weather's been nice and everything here is pretty great. I like it. "

Derek shook his head, like he was somewhat annoyed, those his eyes flashed with fondness. "Still able to ramble a thousand miles an hour. But you should really talk to someone about the fact that your name isn't on the lists. You won't get any credit for anything if you're not on the list. I mean you—well you…" Derek paused to look at him. "What exactly are you here for anyway? What do you do on your computer? Why'd you tell him you work on the set? What do you do with the set?"

Stiles blushed, looking away. "What's with the interrogation? I haven't seen you in a year. It's weird not seeing friends for so long."

Derek stopped pulling at his leather jacket to freeze and turn to Stiles. Derek cocked his head to the side. "Friends?"

"W-well," Stiles stuttered, "I—I thought we were…friends...I mean I know it's been awhile but I lend you books, we sit and chat."

"No, no," Derek assured him, "I—..." he huffed, looking at the ground. "Phone."

Stiles stared. "What?"

"Your phone. I'll put in my number," Derek mumbled, holding his hand out towards Stiles. "You can text me so I know what days you're coming. You know that we're shooting off the coast next week right? I don't know why we didn't exchange numbers last year."

Hesitantly, Stiles dug into his pocket for his phone and slapped it into Derek's out stretched hand. "Okay."

When Derek returned the phone he straightened up, all confident and sure of himself. "Well, I can't stand around. I've got an actual job where people expect me to do real work. But I'm sure you can find the girls all on your own."

Stiles rolled his eyes but didn't mind the shift in Derek. "I'm sure I can." He spun away from the man to go on his way but he stopped to say, "It really is good to see you again, Derek."

Derek didn't reply, but his eyes softened for a moment before he turned to go the opposite direction.

Stiles had barely made it a foot when the girls found him. There were no hugs, no hellos or warm smiles.

"You were at the premiere," Lydia accused, "Isaac saw you there."

"Hi to you too, Lydia! I've been great, thanks! How have you been?" Stiles snarked in a fake manner of enthusiasm.

"But you didn't say hi, you didn't go to the any parties, and you didn't even tell Derek you were there," she listed off, looking at Allison as if to make sure she had gotten all the things she was supposed to mention.

"You guys were busy," Stiles shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"You didn't text me," Allison frowned. "I gave you my number before the last day of filming. I thought we were friends."

Stiles looked at her with wide eyes. "Look, we run in totally different worlds. I just assumed…well I assumed you were just trying to be nice. I'm just me—just weird, crazy Stiles. I didn't want to bother you."

Lydia looked like she was going to punch him. "We're friends, Stiles. You know, Derek kept asking about you? He's had my number for forever but the first text I ever receive from him is _Have you talked to Stiles recently? _And I had to honestly say no, because when we gave you our numbers we assumed you would call!_"_

Stiles flinched away from the raging red head, hiding behind Isaac who had just walked over. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Allison and Lydia stood next to each other like a scary tag team. Upon Stiles' apology they both seemed to relax and smiled in unison. Together they reached forward to pull Stiles into a hug, a tight squeeze before stepping back to just grin.

"You two scare me," Stiles informed them with a mumble

Isaac merely nodded along, pulling Stiles away.

"You look like you're constipated," Stiles informed Derek loudly.

Derek didn't flinch like Stiles had been going for, but he raised his head from his book slowly to meet Stiles' eyes. "Just getting back from lunch? I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you more yesterday. We were really busy and by the time we were done you were gone."

Stiles shrugged with an attempt at a suppressed grin, sprawling on the ground with long limbs. He set his food bag next to him with his backpack. "It's okay, I got a lot of work done. Plus, it's fun to watch you guys scramble. Have you got a lot of time now?"

Derek didn't move away from where Stiles had childishly invaded his space with his legs. "Yeah, they're filming with Lydia and Erica right now. I'm good for a little while."

Stiles hummed in response, stuffing curly fries into his mouth. He paused a minute to offer some to Derek who merely glared at them like they were the devil. Stiles shrugged, "so how have you been?"

"Good," Derek replied, setting his book down, "you?"

"Good," Stiles agreed. "So, last I saw you, you were eagerly awaiting the publishing of the latest _Hunted_ book. Was it all you dreamed of and more?" Stiles teased but his heart pounded. He wanted Derek to have liked it. He wanted Derek's approval more than he'd ever wanted anyone's. Scott, his dad…they'd like his writing no matter what. But this was Derek.

Derek smiled small, like it was a thoughtful smile. "Yeah, I—it's my favorite so far," Derek admitted. "But uh—can I tell you something?"

Stiles shoveled more curly fries in his mouth to stop himself from cheering. He nodded in response to Derek's question as his heart sang with happiness at Derek's approval of the latest novel.

"You can't tell anyone," Derek told him as he looked around as if checking to see if anyone else was around. "I don't know if I was supposed to keep it a secret that I got it but…_Sparks_ sent me the book. As a thank you, he—she—whatever. _Sparks_ sent me the book a month before it was out. Like, as a thank you."

Stiles widened his eyes, his heart racing again. He swallowed hard, "R-really? That's great. I bet you were happy to read it early."

Derek stared at him like he had two heads, "happy? I was ecstatic! No one has ever given me a gift that great before!"

Stiles fought back the giant smile but lost the war. The grin broke out across his face as he tried to hide it in his burger. "So," he said around the mouthful, "tell me about it. Tell me what you thought of it."

And the way Derek talked about the books, the honesty in his eyes as he told Stiles what amazing writer he was (without even knowing he was) why, it was the best gift Stiles thought he'd ever received too.

The two of them talked and talked for ages. Derek told Stiles about his family. He told him about Laura who just got a song on the top 100 list and his teenage twin siblings, Mike and Cora who just started filming a sitcom for ABC Family. And then Derek told him about his father, the way he pushed each of them to different areas. Derek would break off every once in a while to look away before he continued again, like he was trying to keep himself calm.

So Stiles told him about his father, and how he was the sheriff of their small town called Beacon Hills.

"Your dad is a cop?" Derek's eyes widened. "Like with a gun?"

Stiles snorted, "you sound like a child, you overgrown five year old. Yes, with a gun. Not all our parents can be multimillionaire actors."

"My mom isn't an actress," Derek said like it was some kind of defense. "Being an actor doesn't mean you're stupid or something.

"I never suggested it did," Stiles rolled his eyes. "And wasn't your mom a model?"

Derek scowled, his eyes narrowing. "That is what sucks about being famous. Everyone knows everything about you."

"Actually, Lydia told me. I'm not really up to current events," Stiles blushed with a shrug. "But that's cool, your parents and everything. Your mom must be very pretty."

Derek sighed heavy, like Stiles was being a burden. "Well, what about your mom? What does she do? Let me guess, a teacher. No, a waitress in a diner."

Stiles snorted, "she was a lawyer, actually. Damn good one too. She was one of the finest lawyers ever."

Derek paused, "was? She doesn't practice anymore?"

Stiles was quiet for a moment. "She died when I was nine."

"Oh."

"It's getting late. I ought to get going."

"Okay." Derek paused as Stiles pulled himself to his feet. "Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your mom."

Stiles looked over at him, "me too. I'll text you later, okay?"

Derek stood on the set, his gaze holding Lydia's. "Are you sure?"

Lydia shook her head, no. "But it's the only option left."

"It could kill you," he said, urgent and afraid.

"Or it could save us all," she countered, shaky in tone and uncertain in stance. "What can I do, Alex? You've risked everything time and time again. Let me do this."

Derek's face crumpled, "but you're my best friend, Vera. I can't lose you."

She socked him hard in the shoulder, shaking her head with teary eyes. "You're an idiot. You might be some shifter with awesome strength and speed…but I'm me. I'm the best of all of you."

Derek let out a chuckle at that, through the fear that held in his expression and the watery eyes that pained. "Of course. Just, be careful."

She stood straighter then, all beauty and elegance that seemed to be beyond humanity. "What's the fun in that?" she asked, stepping back a few steps before raising the torch in her arm. "Oh great god of the sun, Father, hear my prayer and give me the power to see—to know. Grant me, Father, the power of the seer, gifted to the daughter of the sun!" and with that, the torch in her arms lit of fire, flickering through the air.

Derek stiffened but stared at Lydia in awe, watching her eyes which, with later tech, would seem to glow golden as her hair highlighted even more red.

But when someone called "cut" Derek could barely hear as he stood still, his eyes still watching the fire in Lydia's hands. He finally spun around to go.

"Derek?" Lydia raised a perfect eyebrow, her lips turning downward. "Where are you going?"

Derek took a deep breath, nodding. "You did fantastic Lydia. A great performance. But, they're going to need a bit to reset so I'm going to pop over to Stiles. See what he thought."

Lydia turned then, uninterested for the most part. "Tell him I said hi."

Derek forced himself to walk slowly, so wrapped up in his own little world he couldn't even grasp the reason why he wanted to talk to Stiles so bad. Instead, he found himself standing there before the boy. "Lydia says hi."

"Got you the book," Stiles told him, thrusting a novel into his hands. "I think you'll like this one."

Derek took it appreciatively, nodding and offering a small smile. "Thanks. Were you watching?"

"Of course."

"What did you think?"

Stiles grinned largely, his excitement across his face. "Oh it was so cool! I—Derek is something wrong?"

Derek felt his insides boil, spinning and churning as he stared at Stiles. Derek knew how he looked, calm and collected as normal. But Stiles always knew, always saw what no one else did. "Just had to get away for a bit."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Stiles asked, scooting over to make room for Derek.

"I'm afraid of fire," Derek suddenly said loudly, then snapping his eyes around like he realized anyone could have heard him. When he looked back to Stiles he used a softer voice, more strained and less confident. "It doesn't really make any sense, but I just hate fire. Even lit candles on my birthday cake made me nervous."

Stiles shrugged, putting a comforting hand on Derek. "That's a pretty reasonable fear. Lots of people are afraid of getting burned. You should have said something. I'm sure they could have done it differently, to make you more comfortable."

But as Derek shook his head Stiles could see the way Derek gripped the book in his hand so tight the paperback was beginning to scrunch into his hands. Derek seemed oblivious. His eyes were trained ahead of him. "No, that's what's so stupid about it. I'm not afraid of getting burned. I—I sometimes worry that the world around me is just going to catch on fire and burn down to the ground. Sometimes I feel like the people I care about, all around me, are going to burn down to ashes and leave me alone with nothing but the smell of smoke so far down my nose I can't breathe." Derek stopped for a moment to look at Stiles, wide eyed and pale faced, "Sometimes I have nightmares where my house start on fire with my family tucked inside, screaming and shrieking but unable to get out. But in these dreams, Stiles, sometimes I'm the one who starts the fire and locks the doors. Like I killed my family but—I'm afraid of being alone, Stiles, and I'm afraid of it being my fault."

When Derek stopped talking he kept himself locked into position, tense shoulders, iron gripped hands on the book, eyes trained on the wall. Slowly, Stiles slid closer until their sides were pressed together. Calmly, as to not freak Derek out, Stiles reached for his hands. Stiles covered Derek's hands with his own, making Derek jump.

But suddenly Derek released the book and let Stiles pull his hands into his own. Derek's eyes left the wall to find Stiles' eyes, holding the gaze as Stiles let Derek clasp their hands together.

"Your family is not going anywhere," Stiles whispered as Derek slowly began to melt into his side, letting himself lean into Stiles. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," Derek breathed out, his voice rough and heavy, "I know that."

Stiles didn't say anything more, just let leaned against Derek and enjoy the feeling of warm weight against him. It was comforting, really, sitting there. After a while, Derek sat up a little more. He looked down at the book, left on the floor.

"I'm sorry about the book," Derek whispered.

Stiles shrugged, "its okay. I didn't really like it anyway. No pictures."

They fell back into their routine. This time, however, Stiles and Derek kept in contact via text. Derek hated texting more than anything, so it was mainly for keeping updates on when the other would be free—and for Stiles to send bad puns.

Eventually, Stiles had to admit that he wasn't going to watch them film anymore. He wanted to see Derek—and everyone else, of course.

"You have to come, Stiles," Lydia demanded. "You're not that shy. You're perfectly happy to talk to all of us."

Stiles ducked his head, "You guys don't want me there. It would be weird."

Lydia pursed her lips and then sighed. "Well what if you bring Seth? That's your friends name, right? Invite him. It's just a small get together with some of us. Besides, we've all been dying to meet this famous bestie you go on about."

"It's Scott, and I don't think—"

"Come on," Allison punched his shoulder, "Derek won't go unless you do."

Stiles raised a surprised eyebrow. "He—he said that?"

"No," Allison rolled her eyes, "but he says _no_ every single time he's invited to something that isn't like, mandatory. Bet you anything he'd go if you were."

Stiles couldn't stop the snort that he let out. "Are we talking about the same guy? Derek? I'm his book dealer…he barely puts up with me. We're hardly even friends. I'm—"

"His best friend," Allison cut across. "Tell you what, if we invite Derek and he says yes then you have to go…and bring what's-his-face."

"Fine," Stiles agreed reluctantly.

"Derek!" Lydia hollered over her shoulder. She kept her eyes on Stiles as they waited. "So your friend, is he cute?"

Stiles just stared.

A moment later and Derek stood there, he did not look pleased. "I'm not a dog, Lydia. Don't do that."

"Hey," she simply grinned, "tomorrow we're all getting together to hang out—"

"No, thanks," he said quickly but Lydia just kept talking.

"And Stiles is bringing Scott with him so we can meet him. Stiles didn't want to impose and make us all uncomfortable. I told him you'd probably go and he agreed he'd go if you did."

Derek didn't look at Stiles but he froze, as if he glued in place. "Stiles is going?"

Stiles wanted nothing more than to shrink into the ground as Lydia said, "sure is."

Derek straightened, his eyes flittering to meet Stiles' for a moment before clearing his throat. "Well, maybe I'll stop in. I'd like to meet Scott. Maybe I'll come for an hour."

Lydia beamed at him but Stiles couldn't help but feel his own stomach flutter at that.

"Great, Derek! That's fab!"

"Was that all? I was getting ready to film," Derek said, slipping into his grumpy demeanor again to strut off again like he was all that.

Stiles pointedly ignored the smirks from Lydia and Allison. But he couldn't ignore the pleased feeling that bubbled within.

In retrospect, Stiles should have known better. He knew that writing in public was a bad idea, he knew that it was dangerous to bring his jump drive along with him. But Stiles had done it anyway a thousand times.

"What is this?" Lydia said quietly as she stared down at the screen.

Stiles flailed, snapping the laptop shut as his heart jumped up into his throat. "Wha—Lydia! I didn't see you!" He blushed hard, hoping that she hadn't read it, hoping she had only just gotten there to stand behind him like a shadow.

But Lydia reached for his laptop as Stiles pulled it away. "Are you writing _fanfiction?_" she demanded, all big smiles of disbelief. "Oh my God, I can't believe it. You're writing _Hunted_ fanfiction!" She began to laugh as Stiles calmed himself down.

"There is nothing wrong with fanfiction," he said with false heat. He was relieved that she had made assumptions of another kind.

"No, no, no," she reassured him quickly. "It's just funny because …I don't even know."

"You can't tell anyone," Stiles said quickly, "you can't tell anyone—especially Derek—that I've been writing...fanfiction. Promise me you won't."

Lydia just grinned, "Oh, sure honey. I won't tell a soul. You should let me read it some time. I read some of the fanfiction from time to time because some of it is kind of cute."

Stiles cleared his throat, wondering how smart, freaky intelligent Lydia Martin missed the thing staring her in the face. "Sure, maybe."

"Anyway," she pulled strands of hair out of her face. "Derek was going to pick you and Scott up for the party. That's okay, right? You'll have to give him your address."

"Sure," Stiles said quickly, "of course."

And as she walked away Stiles sighed. That was too damn close. He couldn't write there anymore, he'd have to spend more time at home.

"This is a terrible idea," Scott declared as he pulled his shirt on over his head.

"You don't want to meet Lydia Martin?" Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Or Derek Hale or Isaac Lahey?"

Scott sighed, his face pulled into a scowl. "Of course I do but…why do they want me to come? Besides, I'll be alone and bored there."

Stiles smacked him, sticking out his tongue, "I'll be there, moron."

"Yeah," Scott agreed and then he looked at Stiles as if he was afraid of something, "but they all know you. You're all good friends."

"Oh my God, Scott!" Stiles howled with laughter. "I'm not leaving you for them. You're my best friend, my bro, my hetero life partner, the robin to my batman the—"

Scott threw a pillow at him. "Okay, okay," Scott whined, "I get it. But how on earth did you become friends with these people? The shyest guy I know and he's good friends with Derek Hale!"

Stiles looked out the window then suddenly, "you know it doesn't work like that. But speaking of Derek, he'll be here any second. Come on Scott."

By the time Derek did pull up Stiles could see the weird charm Derek put on when he was in front of cameras. Derek wore it now, smiling at Scott with friendly eye contact and articulated words instead of grunts. "You must be Scott," he grinned and held out a hand, "Derek Hale."

"Uh," Scott said slowly, looking at Stiles while he took the hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."

"Stiles talks about you constantly. I'm glad I finally got to meet you." Derek motioned towards the car, "well, shall we?"

Stiles and Scott both climbed into the seats. Scott looked at him with bewilderment and Stiles just shrugged. He'd told Scott what Derek was like, warned him that he might need to warm up to him. But this was all charm.

_"You know, from the interviews and movies and all that crap…you always seemed to be more…happy."_

_"I'm an actor," Derek deadpanned._

_"So why not act now?" Stiles questioned, fanning his hands. _

_Derek snorted. "It's an act for those whose opinions actually matter."_

Stiles sat back in his seat, catching Derek's eye in the mirror to share a small, private smile. And he wondered why Scott's opinion mattered to Derek.

"So, how far is Lydia's hotel from here?"

"Just a few minutes, actually," Derek replied, taking a right turn. "See? She's on the other side of the highway."

"Oh."

In ten minutes the three boys were standing outside Lydia's room. "Hey!" Lydia beamed as they entered the enormous hotel room. "Glad you could make it! You must be Scott, right? I'm Lydia, but I'm sure you knew that. Erica! Come meet Scott McCall!"

And so Scott was quickly being introduced to everyone. Stiles and Derek hung back a bit to watch the quick exchanges and then share a curious glance when Scott met Allison.

"And this is our extremely talented Allison Argent," Lydia said, waving her hand towards her best friend like she was in a game show.

"Oh," Scott blinked at her a few times, "hi."

"Hi," she grinned back, shy for the first time since Stiles had met her. "Stiles has said so many great things about you."

"He tells me about you too," Scott said, smiling lightly at her.

Lydia leaned in toward Stiles, "you didn't say your best friend looked like that."Stiles gave her a questioning look until she whispered, "Allison's got a thing for big eyes."

Stiles smirked at Scott, certain he wouldn't have to worry about him any longer. So he sat on the coach with Derek and Erica to discuss the merits of comic books.

A few hours passed and Stiles didn't even feel the time slipping away.

"Why don't we play a game?" Lydia suggested. It was more like a friendly command so everyone begrudgingly neared to hear what they were doing.

Stiles smirked as he saw Scott go to sit nonchalantly beside Allison who was on Lydia's right. Stiles sat on Lydia's left and scooted over to let Derek sit next to him. The others quickly sat around to complete the circle.

"Okay," Erica said slowly, "what are we playing? Please tell me we're playing truth or dare!"

"What are we," Isaac demanded, "five?"

Erica glared at him while Lydia shrugged. "We could play _Sparks."_

"What's that?" Scott asked, twitching. His eyes left Allison to look at Stiles from across the room.

"Everyone tells people who they think _Sparks_ is and why!" Allison grinned suddenly. "Oh, we played this at the barbeque. It's a lot of fun! And very fitting for those present."

"Here," Lydia said smiling, "I'll start. Okay, so I think _C. Sparks_ is a convict and he's writing the books in jail. Maybe he's killed someone."

"What?" Derek demanded, wide eyed. "You're kidding me!"

Stiles couldn't help the bark of laughter he let out.

"It isn't your turn," Lydia scolded Derek. "Allison, what about you?"

Allison shifted with a thoughtful look. "Well…maybe _Sparks_ is lots of people, all collected to write the best book that will appeal to everyone. Like, a huge board of writers."

Stiles ignored Derek's snort in favor of asking, "how many people?"

"Lots," Allison grinned. "Like twenty people in one room."

"Okay, Scott, what about you?"

Scott looked panic, looking anywhere but Stiles. "Uhh, well, maybe…maybe _Sparks_ is like, already a well-known writer. You know, like, what if it's Stephen King or something…"

"Could be," Lydia allowed, "but this is supposed to be fun!"

Danny was next and he just burst out with, "aliens, obviously!"

Stiles relaxed as the game went along, each person sharing a ridiculous answer for who _C._ _Sparks_ could possibly be. Most people weren't making real guesses.

When Derek's turn came around he shrugged. "Pass."

Lydia frowned at him. "No passing, Derek. You have to answer."

Stiles' pulse began pounding as Derek sighed to let in to Lydia. "Fine," he huffed. He looked around before shrugging. "_Sparks_ is an extremely talented writer. Not to sound sexist or anything because I don't mean anything by it, but in my mind, _Sparks_ is a guy. He probably wants some privacy, doesn't want to be bothered. There is nothing wrong with that. He could be a random person, just some undiscovered genius of a guy writing books. I would assume rather young, but there is no evidence for that either."

"The story is a complex tale so the author would have to be very intelligent to write it the way it has been," Derek smiled as he continued. "I don't think the world will ever know who _Sparks_ is if he or she doesn't want us to know. Maybe they're just really shy or perhaps they are scared. Whatever the reason, it's theirs and people should respect that."

Stiles turned briefly to his right to find Lydia's eyes on him. Though her face remained expressionless he could hear her thinking, as rapid as his heartbeat. Stiles could feel the realization radiating off of her as she stared him down, her eyes widening for half a second. Each piece connected on the other side of her eyes as she began to see through Stiles' clever secrets. He looked away and let a silence settle. Lydia too, remained silent.

"Well," Allison prompted. "What do you think Stiles?"

Not making eye contact with Scott, Derek, or Lydia, Stiles merely grinned falsely. "Oh, it's totally Obama."

With his words it was like Lydia was broken from a trance and a big smile cracked across her face. "Well, that was fun. But I've got some fun different foods for us to try if anyone is interested?" Lydia didn't suggest another game after that.

But Stiles just couldn't stay within the too big building any more. He felt like it was too large and too small all at the same time and it was crushing him in large gusts of open space.

"You ok, Stiles?" Danny asked, pushing Stiles' shoulder. "You seem a bit more jittery than usual."

Stiles flinched but grinned to try to hide it. "Yeah, I think I'm just not feeling too well. I think maybe I should head home. Maybe I had too much to drink."

Scott, who was standing, still talking to Allison whipped around with a small flash of disappointment. "We're heading out? You not feeling well?"

Stiles felt like an asshole. It was obvious Scott wanted to stay to talk more to the girl who had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. Allison, too, wore a quickly masked face of sadness at the prospect of Scott leaving.

"Well," Derek said quickly, as if he were afraid the words were going to be ignored, "I was thinking I might head out too, so I could give you a ride? The others hardly know Scott and I'm sure they'd prefer if he could stay a bit longer. Right, Isaac?"

Isaac smirked but nodded quickly, "yeah, absolutely! We were just getting to know him. Allison and him seem to getting along famously. We'll get him back to you before tomorrow."

Stiles wanted the ground to swallow him up. "Sure," Stiles agreed easily, "thanks Derek."

Derek didn't respond but Stiles was too busy looking at the floor to see the dark blush that bit at Derek's face.

Stiles pulled himself into Derek's Camaro and clicked the seatbelt. He watched Derek climb into the driver's seat and being alone with Derek was both a comfort and a boost to the anxious dread filling his stomach.

Neither spoke for a while, just accepting the silence.

"Too much for you?" Derek wondered aloud as he pulled onto the highway.

Stiles blinked rapidly from where he'd been sitting, staring out the window. "What? Oh, no I just…well, yeah I guess. Stupid, right?"

Derek looked at him quickly before his eyes were back on the road. "Stupid? No, of course not."

Stiles wasn't sure if speaking was helping or making things worse. "No one would ever suspect that I was so…unbelievably terrified of people, huh? I get that it's unreasonable but I can't help it. I feel like what other people think of me builds up who I am."

Derek shifted in the driver's seat, pushing down on the gas as a red light turned green. "That's not true, you are your own person and no one can change that…but if it was, well you'd be built up pretty high."

Stiles snorted nervously, wishing he could just stop existing. All he could think of was the realization on Lydia's face. "You think so? Stiles Stilinski isn't exactly the person everyone would call amazing. I'm too—" Stiles was ready to rattle a thousand things in his nervous twitching, just clinging to the hope that he was wrong, that she hadn't connected any dots. _Loud, obnoxious, talkative, nosey, rude, mouthy, sarcastic, scared… _"It's here, on the left," he said instead, pointing to the building.

"You are to me," Derek said calmly with a shrug. He stopped the car outside the apartment block.

"I am what?" Stiles said, staring stupidly up at the building.

"Amazing," Derek clarified. He was as strong in his voice as always, not at all hesitant. He was calm and nonchalant, as if he said things like that everyday.

It made Stiles turn his head to look at him and meet his eyes. "Sorry?"

"I," Derek cleared his throat, turning so he could look Stiles full in the face, "I've met a lot of people, famous people, glamorous, rich, strange people…but I've never met anyone quite like you, Stiles. I think you're pretty amazing."

"You—" For the first time in a long time, in just regular conversation, Stiles was lost his words. The look on Derek's face reminded Stiles that Derek didn't talk about feelings, didn't give up thoughts or feelings about people easily. The look on Derek's face was a mixture of slight fear, fondness, and an unmistakable hope. "I—" But the events of the evening were crushing in on Stiles once more and all he needed was to get out of Derek's car and get as far from the man as he could. "Have a good night, Derek. Thank you for the ride."

He didn't wait for a reply, he just threw open the door and left behind a hurt Derek Hale. Stiles took off to his apartment, searching his pockets frantically for a key without looking back. And through the haze of uncertainty and raw fear, Stiles thought of his mother and he wondered.

He wondered if she would have been proud of what he'd accomplished, or disappointed that he couldn't even manage acknowledging the fact that he'd done anything.

Stiles stared at his phone, only answering it on the last ring, just when he pulled enough courage to answer it and slam it to his ear. "Hello?" he squeaked out.

"You're _C. Sparks_," she said it as a statement, not a question. "You wrote the _Hunted_ series."

Stiles didn't answer her, just pulled a glass from the cupboard to get some water down his throat which now felt dry and scratchy. He refused to deny the accusation, refused to be so weak as he already felt so small. "I had a great time at your party. Did everyone else just leave?"

Lydia didn't acknowledge the question, just kept plowing through. "Who all knows?"

Stiles finally paused to look at the ceiling, feeling more tired and old than he ever had in his life. He regulated his breathing as he spoke, "Scott, My father…a few random people…you're the first person in the world to figure it out. I suppose no one would suspect me to be...well—"

Stiles could hear the smile on the other end of the phone, could picture the perfect white teeth as they were framed by heavily lip-glossed lips. "I just, can't believe no one thought that…I mean it seems so obvious now. So you're at the filming, why? Because you're curious? That's funny, I suppose—" she faltered as her smile slipped a bit. "Oh God, Stiles…does Derek know? Oh, we've got to tell him."

Quite suddenly, Stiles couldn't breathe. The world was moving too fast and Stiles couldn't keep up. His lungs couldn't suck in enough air—he was choking, he was drowning "No, please don't tell him—or anyone, Lydia. Please. I'm not…I'm not ready. I can't—" Stiles grabbed the counter to keep himself upright. It was over, it was all over.

"Stiles," Lydia questioned after a moment and uncertainty crawled into her voice. "Are you okay?" As his heavy breathing sounded through the phone she seemed to catch on. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Jesus, Stiles breathe!" Her own voice cracked with fear, "You're scared Stiles, but it's going to be okay. I won't tell anyone. It's a secret, no one is going to know. You're fine. I promise, Stiles. You have to calm down and breathe!"

Stiles fought to gain control on his lungs again. It had been a long while since the last panic attack but he almost rolled his eyes. Like saying _calm down_ was any actual help. He went through the exercises, trying to take long, slow breaths. When he finally managed to clear his vision enough to see the world around him again, it was with wet eyes.

Lydia sounded taken aback, as if she didn't know how to react. "Oh, Stiles. I'm so sorry. I just got carried away. I'm not going to tell anyone, Stiles. You're my friend. I wouldn't do that to you."

"I know that, I know," He wiped at his face, angry at himself for letting his emotions get the best of him. "I just…

"Shh," she whispered at him, as if unsure of what to do. "We're friends, Stiles. Just think of it as having one more friend who knows the real you."

Stiles shook his head at that, "You've always known the real me, Lydia. I'm clumsy and I don't know when to shut up and I like people but they scare me and…and I don't want that to change. I want people to see me for who I am, not for what they've built me up to be."

"It's okay, Stiles. Your writing is brilliant, but I'm honestly not surprised you're that talented. You're amazing, Stiles. And it's okay if you're not ready for the world to know that. But can I ask you why?"

Stiles turned to stare at the little picture on the counter with his parents and him at the lake. "I don't…I don't want to let everyone down. And if you can figure it out…what's to say that everyone else won't too? I—Derek can't know."

"But why? Derek wouldn't tell a soul, Stiles. I know he wouldn't."

Stiles clutched his glass tight in his hands. "I don't want to be hurt, Lydia. I can't do that; I just can't handle it right now. I'm scared. I'm so damn scared."

"I'm not going to tell him, I won't tell anyone," she promised, seemingly unsure how to handle the hysteric Stiles.

"Thank you," he breathed out again before pulling the glass of water to his lips to take a sip, willing himself to calm down. His hand was trembling.

Just then, Scott walked through the door with a bright smile on his face. "Stiles! I had the most—Stiles? Who are you talking—?" Scott went from unbelievably excited to extremely concerned in half a second as he caught sight of his best friend. A beat of silence echoed through the apartment as Stiles and Scott locked eyes.

It would have been funny, really, to watch their silent conversation if the tension wasn't so thick and the reality so scary for Stiles. If anyone had walked in they would have noticed then that he was shaking, that his skin had from pale to ghostly white. He seemed so uncomfortable in his own skin quite suddenly. Stiles looked like he was going to barf or break down crying again, and Lydia wished, for a brief moment, that she had never figured it out at all.

"Hey, Lydia, I've got to go," Stiles whispered into the phone. He didn't wait for a reply, just ended the call and let his hand hang limply at his side.

Scott sighed like the world had just come crashing down around him. "Shit."


	3. Lets Make This Work

**Hiyah! Sorry it took me so long! But here it is! TADA! Hope you like :) **

* * *

**Derek: **_Coming in?_

**Stiles: **_Not today_

**Derek: **_Haven't seen you in a while. Are you alright?_

**Stiles: **_Yeah, just busy_

**Derek: **_Come in soon?_

**Stiles: **_We'll see_

**Derek: **_Are you sure everything is ok?_

**Stiles: **_Yes_

**Derek: **_I miss you_

**Derek: **_I'm out of books to read_

**Stiles: **_I have to go_

**Derek: **_Ok_

* * *

But Stiles didn't come in for the next week, he buried himself into his book, letting Alexander's life replace his own. He knew he couldn't go back. It wasn't Lydia, the fact that Lydia knew wasn't nearly as scary as he thought it would be.

Stiles stared at his cellphone, the unanswered calls from Lydia, Derek, Allison and even Isaac were staring him in the face. But he just couldn't deal with them all right now.

"Stiles," Scott began but went silent as Stiles turned to look at him.

"You were right, Scotty," Stiles said emotionlessly. "I was too curious for my own good. It was a risk that I never should have made."

Scott let that settle, let it hang in the air to rest like dust on the shelves where books lined their walls. He kept his eyes fixed on Stiles, knowing that his best friend was making a hard decision.

"Is this about Derek?" Scott asked finally.

Stiles didn't stir, but his eyes flickered back to Scott. "Derek?"

"Look," Scott said slowly, "I've never seen you more pleased or more horrified then when Derek was talking about _Sparks_. And Derek didn't seem to want to talk to anyone the whole night—except you. Lydia finding out, why, that's not the end of the world. She signed papers, she's not telling anyone. And if you're worried about other people figuring it out, you have to remember that Lydia's way more intelligent than the average Joe, and she knows you on a personal level. I'm starting to think that you're less worried about the rest of the world finding out, and more about Derek discovering the truth."

"I'm not scared of him finding out," Stiles argued, suddenly all heat and honesty. "I—I'm scared because I want to tell him."

Scott stared. "What?"

Stiles pushed papers aside to rest his head on the coffee table in front of him. "Scott, I've never wanted to give anyone my writing before so they could read it; I never wanted to just give it to them so they knew I wrote it. Everything I ever gave you to read made me feel like I was sick, just handing it over. Even still, hell—I was terrified the first time Dad asked to read something." Stiles' volume steadily decreased until he was whispering. "But I want Derek to know I wrote the stories. I want him to read them, not as stories from _Sparks_ but as writings from Stiles. I don't know why, it's not like I'm looking for recognition or anything. I just—I want him to know."

"So why not just tell him?" Scott answered in an equally soft tone.

Stiles looked at his best friend with big sad eyes as he said, "Because I'm in love with him."

Scott didn't answer because he didn't understand. What he did understand was that Stiles needed his support. Scott would do anything to protect Stiles. He just went to the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream, determined to help his friend. He scooped two bowls, grab the Star Wars movie collection and brought them back to the living room. He didn't say a word, just handed them over to Stiles.

* * *

There was a knock on the door late at night, an hour after Scott left for his date with Allison. Stiles rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and stopped writing to get up. He hobbled to the door and pulled it open only slightly to see who it was.

"Hey, Stiles," Lydia said holding up two cups of coffee like a peace offering. "Can I come in?"

Stiles just stared at her for a long moment before stepping aside to allow her room for walking in. "Hi, Lydia. How you been?"

"I've been better," she admitted with a shrug, walking inside the doorway and letting it close behind her before handing Stiles his coffee. "Everyone misses you."

Stiles cleared his throat and led her towards the coach but stopped cold and then spun to walk over to the kitchen table, unable to look at the living room again. "I miss you guys too," Stiles muttered, taking a sip of the coffee. It was good, nice and hot. "But I—I think we have to be done. I don't think I should be coming in anymore."

Lydia froze where she was about to sit down, her eyes widening and then suddenly watering. "What? Because of…Jesus, Stiles I am so sorry. I know I—look I didn't mean to—"

"Lydia," Stiles gestured for her to sit, offering a small smile. "It isn't you. You can't help being intelligent, it wasn't your fault I was being careless. It has nothing to do with you."

Lydia sat down hard, a soft sniffle sounding before raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Okay," Stiles put his hands up in half surrender. "It's a little to do with you. But I—I think it's time for me to stop fooling around. I'm a writer. I create, I makeup brave characters but I, myself have never been that. I'm kind of weak, Lydia," he said, waving her off when she made to interrupt, "no I am! And that's okay. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a cowardly, person that doesn't always meet people's expectations. The problem is I should be strong enough to tell people who I really am. But I can't. I'm a scared little boy, Lydia. It's about time I remember that. It isn't shameful, Lydia, just disappointing."

Lydia looked away, like she was furious and terribly sad but couldn't make up her mind which one was more predominant. "You have to come back, Stiles."

"I can't," he said softly, clasping his hands on the table. "I don't belong there, Lydia. I never did."

She turned to look at him again, still managing to look gorgeous. "What about Derek?"

Stiles sat back in his seat, letting out a slow exhale, "what about Derek?"

"He's not just going to except it, even if I could," she said sternly, heat in her words as her eyes bore into him.

Stiles snorted, shrugging. "I'll tell him the truth. I'm going to go back to California. I've been here long enough."

Lydia's face fell then, like she'd been slapped. "You can't! God, Stiles you can't fucking do this! We're friends. What are we supposed to do, forget you were a part of our lives? Stiles, apart from Allison, I've never had many friends. As for Derek, I don't think he's ever had any. Isaac has always been scared to voice his opinion; he grew up modeling and was taught he was only good for his looks. He and I debated politics yesterday! Erica has been a cold-hearted bitch for as long as I've known her—but she's been asking about you, worried. You've changed people, Stiles. You've left a mark and you can't take it back."

"What do you want from me?" Stiles demanded, defeated. "I don't belong in your world, Lydia. It was fun and stupid and now it's serious and scary and I don't know what to do. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, Lydia!"

"Because I found out? Stiles I—"

"Because I fell in love," Stiles cut her off, letting it seep in.

Lydia stopped then and took a deep breath. She shut her eyes and put her hand to her head, like she had a severe headache or she was on the verge of flooding tears. "Derek," she said without question.

Stiles shrugged, weakly. "Couldn't help it. He's too perfect for me." Stiles let his head drop into his hands, shutting his eyes like he could shut out the world. "I don't know what to do, Lydia. I've been sitting here, writing. And every once in a while I convince myself I should go in. I shower. I put on my jacket and pack up my bag. And then as I climb into my car I can't even put it into reverse because I'm so stupid."

"He might feel the same," she said, a soft whisper beyond the darkness.

"He might laugh at my stupidity."

"He could be overjoyed to find out the truth."

"He could be disgusted that his hero was nothing more than a stupid boy playing something more."

Lydia stood, reaching across the table to grab at Stiles' hands, forcing him to look up at her. "Only one way to find out, Stiles Stilinski, author of the _Hunted_ series."

* * *

Derek kept checking his phone every chance he got. Stiles had stopped answering him and he was worried. Allison walked past him as she flickered about, checking makeup of those that stood, ready to flim. "Allison, have you—"

"No," she answered without looking at him. She fixed the costume of one of the girls, pulling it to center it once more. When she did look at Derek it was with sad eyes. "He's not answering anyone but I've got Scott's number. He won't tell me what, just that Stiles is dealing with some stuff right now."

"Oh," Derek replied, all cold and gruff.

Allison made a face. "You need to lighten up. I know you miss him but I think you're scaring Isaac again. Don't be so grumpy all the time."

Derek looked away, a little ashamed. He was scared when it came to Stiles, unsure and confused. "Sorry."

Derek stepped off the set, pulling himself to Allison's makeup table as the scene was being set around Lydia and Isaac and Erica for a scene. The noise on the set was loud and chaotic.

"My God, you've got it bad." Allison was watching him with curious eyes, "You know, before Stiles came around I thought you were a grumpy, unkind person. But you're different around him."

"I guess I am," Derek allowed, not bothering to acknowledge the smirk he knew was on her face. "I've never met anyone like him before."

Allison nodded in somewhat of an agreement before leaning on her counter to face him. "So, what's the problem? Stiles is obviously gay," She said with a toss of her hair, like she was about to put his homosexuality on a scale. "Not flamboyantly, but he doesn't keep it a secret. He rates the guys in magazines with Lydia, Erica and I. So, what's the deal? You're bisexual, right?"

Derek felt his ears turn red. "Stiles? Why on earth would Stiles want to be in a relationship with me? He's all…him; exciting and funny and perfect…and I'm me. I've got the social skills of a toothpick and I know it."

Allison stared. "I think you'd be surprised. I'm pretty sure there is a pool for when you two will eventually get together."

Derek glared at her, feeling his cheeks heat up darker. "Even if Stiles did like me…he's terrified of attention. If anyone saw us together they'd hound him. We'd have to date in secret and…I don't know if that would be enough for him, not when he could be with someone else and not have to hide it. How could he be happy with me? I've always been…withdrawn, reclusive...antisocial I guess. But Stiles is the center of attention without ever drawing attention to him. Everyone likes him. We're complete opposites in the way that he could never—I could never be what he needed," Derek broke off to stare at the ground in frustration. "I'm just happy to have him in my life. I wish I hadn't—I don't know what I did that scared him off but I miss him."

Allison sighed, looking off. "You think it was you? He could just be dealing with some stuff."

"Yeah," Derek mumbled, "pretty sure."

Allison watched as Derek went off, just like he often did. He enjoyed being alone. No, he used to be content to be alone. He liked to be with Stiles. Derek gripped his book tight in his hand, one of the _Hunted_ series but Allison couldn't see which one.

* * *

"Stiles?"

"I still stand by my original opinion," Stiles announced, waving a book in the air as he stood up from the ground. "Hemingway is just not for me."

Derek couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face as he found Stiles sitting there. "Jesus, I thought you'd died or something."

Stiles grabbed Derek into a quick hug saying, "you kidding me? I'm like a parasite that you can't get rid of."

Derek was taken aback by the impromptu hug but he quickly hugged back, chuckling lightly. "Is that a promise?"

Stiles pulled back to get a good look at Derek and he felt his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat quickly. Today. It had to be today. "So what's new with the yahoos over here?"

"Allison won't shut up about your friend, Scott."

Stiles widened his eyes as if he had seen great war. He shook his head slowly. "You have no idea man. Scotts all '_she's like a goddess, her hair is from heaven…her eyes are the most beautiful color in the universe_.'" He cracked a grin to shrug. "They've got a date tonight."

"So what was so pressing that you couldn't answer anyone?" Derek wondered, not sure how to respond to the sudden return of Stiles. He was normal, his normal, cheery self.

Stiles stilled for a moment, but as usual the stillness didn't last long. He shifted his weight from leg to leg. "I was working, actually. I got a lot done."

Derek merely stared at him, "what the hell do you do?"

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, taking a deep breath and said, "maybe I can show you sometime. For now, tell me how filming is going. Did I miss the big fight scene? I was really looking forward to that."

Derek caught Stiles up on how all the scenes went and all the hilarious things that had happened on the set that hadn't seemed as funny to Derek when they happened as they did when he told Stiles who lit up with amusement.

It was easy to talk to Stiles who listened with rapt attention. The boy who never sat still was suddenly ready and willing to listen to what Derek had to say. And when Derek had nothing to say, when he wanted to shut off and be antisocial, Stiles didn't take it personal; he filled the silence with words that flowed from his mouth so easily that it made Derek jealous.

"Laura's coming in tomorrow," Derek said, leaning back. "Since I've got a few days off filming while Isaac and Boyd have to do the fight scene, Laura thought she'd come visit. She'll be in by nine in the morning."

"Oh, another Hale," Stiles smiled at him. "You talk about Laura a lot. Have you two always been close?"

Derek sighed, tossing his head from side to side as he considered it. "I don't know. I guess so. I've always told Laura everything and she's always done the same. In this business you can't really trust people with your secrets. I only ever really talked to Laura…well, and now you. I suppose I tell you everything. But you're different. You're…you." Derek waved at Stiles.

Stiles drew a deep breath, he had to tell him. He should just say it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. There was no reason to be nervous, Derek would be cool about it. Everything would be okay. He just had to say it, _I am C. Sparks. I am C. Sparks. I—_

But his thoughts were interrupted by Derek, all stumbling words and uncertainty. "Well I finish filming early today…maybe we could, seeing as Scott is going to be out anyway...do something…tonight? Uh, I'm dying for a real meal after so long, maybe…I could make you dinner? Unless you'd rather have, like, take out or something. But we could watch movies or talk or…whatever." Derek shifted, looking away as his hands clenched at his side, puling at the end of his shirt.

"You w-want to make me dinner?" Stiles felt the air get caught in his throat, his heart stop in his chest. Stiles could feel the light pink that was painted across his cheeks and on top of his ears. "L—like a date?"

Derek felt the fear welling inside and he almost took it back, but what came out was a confident, "yes. A date. You and me."

"I—but you," the way Stiles began, both of them were quite sure that he was going to say no. But Stiles' mouth also seemed to have a mind of its own as he grinned and whispered shyly, "I—yeah."

"Hale on set!" the voices lifted through and Derek frowned, he wiped to look over his shoulder and then back to Stiles with a pained expression, like he couldn't bear to go.

"Yeah?" he repeated, searching Stiles' eyes for something.

Stiles could only nod, "yeah. Yes. You, me, tonight. It's a date."

Derek's face broke out into a giant grin as he returned the nod, quick like a bobble head. "Okay, yeah. Uh, seven?"

"Seven," Stiles repeated back to him, a coy smile returning to Derek.

As Derek went off to film, Stiles watched after him, his world spinning faster. "Oh my God," he breathed. And then Stiles fist pumped the air, high on life.

Derek fought back to urge to grin at everyone around him, but one look at Lydia and she gave him a giant smile. "He's back, isn't he?"

* * *

"So," Scott began as Stiles pulled himself into their apartment. "How did it go?"Stiles looked guiltily over at Scott how merely snorted, "Didn't tell him?"

Stiles bit his lip, looking away. "I was going to, I swear," he assured his best friend but then looked upward, "but then he asked me out."

Scott stood up quickly, his eyes wide and his mouth pulling into a grin. "Seriously? That's great!"

Stiles looked over at his friend, "Tonight. He asked if he could make me dinner. Derek Hale is going to make me dinner."

"That's...wow!" Scott said quickly, meeting Stiles at the coach to sit next to him. "What's the problem?"

"How am I supposed to tell him now? Look across the table in conversation, 'yeah the weather's been great, did you hear about that new Marvel movie? By the way, I'm _C. Sparks?_' God he is so out of my league. I am in so far over my head."

"Stiles Stilinski!" Scott reprimanded. "You are the coolest guy in the world and Derek is lucky to even know you. You don't have to be nervous. It's just Derek. The guy looks at you like you hung the Goddamn moon!"

Stiles just sank into the seat cushions. "Thanks, Scotty." He covered his face with his hands before jolting upward. "Oh God, what do I wear?"

Scott merely laughed, pulling Stiles along to go look at his closet.

"I'll tell him tonight," Stiles said softly as he stared in the mirror.

"That's the one," Scott declared, nodding at Stiles' outfit and then his own. "We are awesome."

"You nervous?" Stiles asked, watching Scott pause and frown.

"Yeah," he admitted, shrugging, "a bit."

Stiles nodded, turning back to the mirror to glare at the shrimpy boy who stared back. "Yeah. Me too."

"Will you tell him tonight?" Scott asked looking about the apartment.

Stiles considered if for a moment. "Maybe? Probably not. I'm nervous enough as it is. I just don't…I don't want to screw this one up."

Scott smiled softly, looking at his best friend with understanding. "I get that," he agreed. He sighed at the mirror and pulled at his clothing once more. "You think we could work?"

"You and Allison?" Stiles queried, sprawling across the kitchen chair. "Yeah, I really do Scotty. I think you two could be great for one another."

Scott tried to bite back a pleased smile as he turned away, but Stiles could see the excitement in the way he bounced across the room like a puppy. "I'm going to have to go now, if I want to be there on time."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, looking at the clock. It was nearing six. "You have a good time, and remember how awesome you are."

Scott stopped in the doorway, his helmet balanced on his hip, to look back at his friend. "You too, but you might want to make sure you haven't got drafts all over the living room."

Stiles stared around for a moment, his growing wide with realization. "Damn it, okay, thanks bro! Bye!"

"Bye!"

Stiles pulled himself off the coach and began to quickly pick up papers. He would try to lie and say it was organized chaos but the truth was his papers were spewed across the room. Scott knew it, his dad knew it, hell—Deaton knew it.

He picked up the kitchen a bit and found his speakers in case he needed them and made sure to put a blanket by the coach.

Stiles nearly had a heart attack when the doorbell rang. He pulled it open, stared a moment, and burst into laughter.

Derek was wearing a hat and his leather jacket had the collar turned up. He wore sunglasses, despite the fact that it was only semi-sunny out. He held a brown bag in his left hand while tucking his right hand behind him. He looked, Stiles would say, rather ridiculous.

"Wow, you don't look suspicious at all," Stiles told him as he tried to hold back the laughter, afraid of offending Derek.

But Derek stepped into the apartment he seemed only amused. "Well I had to go to the store." He said, holding up the brown bag before setting it on the floor. He pulled the hat and sunglasses off and looked, altogether, more like himself.

That is to say, Stiles forgot what he was doing for a moment in favor of staring at the man. "I—uh, yeah that's fine. We can put that in the kitchen and—what are those?"

Derek rolled his eyes despite the shy look he gave, turning to look away from Stiles as he stretched his hand out to him. "They're flowers. Laura said—I thought….they're nice, okay? Just take the flowers." Derek grumbled, as if he expected another wave of laughter from Stiles. But all he got was silence.

Derek turned to see Stiles once more, staring at him. Now, Derek was used to people staring at him, but the way Stiles' eyes burned into him was different.

"Wow," Stiles whispered as he took them, "you must really like me."

Derek's face lit up like a Christmas tree, pulling his hand down as quickly as he could once Stiles had taken the flowers.

"Thank you," Stiles said in a sincere voice that softened and pulled at Derek.

Derek cleared his throat, looking about Stiles' apartment. "Yeah, sure."

But Stiles quick spun on his heels, making a straight line for the kitchen to pull out a vase. Derek quickly grabbed his bag and stumbled after him. He set the bag on the counter and Stiles began to peer inside. "Whatcha got?"

"Ingredients," Derek smirked at him, but began pulling things out for Stiles to see.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the large assortment of food Derek pulled out. He inspected a few items he didn't know and cocked his head to the side. "You like to cook, huh?"

Derek shrugged, "Laura went through a phase of wanting to try things. She was terrible at cooking, I did alright. It's kind of fun."

"Can I help?" Stiles wondered.

Derek nodded slowly, wondering exactly what he was agreeing to. It ended up mostly being Derek cooking and Stiles watching, but Stiles got to measure the occasional ingredient.

But by eight they had two hot plates of chicken parmesan.

Stiles led him to the coach, grabbing the remote and setting his plate in his lap. "Now, what are you in the mood for?"

"I don't care what we watch. Whatever you want."

Stiles considered that for a moment. "You want to watch something funny or something action packed?"

"Action," Derek replied quickly before sheepishly admitting, "I don't really find most things funny."

"What are you talking about?" Stiles snorted, "you laugh all the time!" Stiles got off the coach to open his cabinets while Derek considered his words.

That was when Derek realized just how deep into this he was already. His family had given him grief his whole life. He wasn't much for laughing or joking. And then there was Stiles.

"Well you probably don't want to watch anything you or your family are in. How about Pirates of the Caribbean?"

Derek nodded, "sure." He didn't really mind what the watched all that much but he was glad he wouldn't have to watch a Hale movie.

Stiles sat back on the coach and fiddled with the remote before it began. He settled on his side of the coach and picked up a piece of chicken with his fork. He inspected the food carefully as Derek watched him out of the corner of his eye. With only a slight hesitation, Stiles popped the fork into his mouth and chewed slowly.

Derek watched Stiles' eyes go big as he chewed, his gaze going back down to his plate. He licked his lips, picked up another piece and shoveled that in too. "Oh my God," Stiles muttered, turning to Derek. "This is delicious. No, this is the best food ever. I can't comprehend. It is—I could live off of this."

Derek just let out a nervous laugh, relieved Stiles liked it. "Thanks, but you helped make it, you know."

Stiles snorted, turning back to the movie, content to continue eating his meal.

But the silence didn't last long.

"You really are the worst Pirate I've ever heard of," Stiles muttered as the man did.

"But you have heard of me," Derek replied with Captain Jack Sparrow while looking at Stiles.

This sent Stiles into a fit of laughter, wiping at his eyes and taking a drink of water.

Neither could resist whispering snarky comments to the other as the movie progressed. It was comfortable. Despite the anxiousness both had suffered through as the night opened, both were now calm and relaxed.

"_I'm telling the story_!" Stiles roared in time with the character on the screen.

By the end of the movie they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, burrowed deep into the cushions of the coach. The two of them never moved from the coach, just spent the evening talking, not bothering to look at the clock. Stiles told Derek of great childhood adventures with Scott in his home town while Derek told him about Laura's great and terrible plans growing up.

The night quickly got away from them, but it was Scott who found them in the morning. The front door opened and shut loudly, followed by a, "Stiles! You up yet? I've—oh." Scott stopped in the middle of the living room and then quickly squeaked. "Oh, sorry. God I swear I have the worst timing ever."

Stiles and Derek had both woke up from where they had fallen asleep on the coach as Scott walked in. A startled Stiles let out a yelp before realizing where he was and whose enormous arm had come to be wrapped around his mid-section during the night. His own head had been buried deep into the chest of Derek Hale who he had been apparently been using as a pillow during the night.

The TV was still on, some strange looking cartoon now playing, and Scott was looking embarrassed, as if he had walked in on something incredibly personal. But a moment passed and it occurred to Stiles that maybe he had.

Derek's hair was standing up in every which way and direction. His shirt was crumbled, half of it riding up his side. His eyes were wide despite his tired, disheveled state, and he grabbed for his phone and groaned. "Shit. I gotta go. I'm going to be late. I didn't mean to—I mean I—Laura's at the—"

That was right, Stiles could remember Derek mentioning Laura flying in. But Stiles grabbed his arm and tugged him to the door, "you've got to go, I know that," he gave Derek a look that he hoped conveyed understanding. "Go, go! Run wolf boy! Mush!"

Derek made to listen to Stiles and dash down the hall and to his car, but he stopped the last moment and spun on his heels. Suddenly Stiles and his face were really close to one another. "I had a good time last night," Derek said slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Yeah?" Stiles looked up at him through his lashes. "Me too. We should uh—we should do it again sometime."

Derek stared into his eyes for a moment before grabbing the back of Stiles' neck and yanking him forward, quickly but softly, into a kiss. It was a quick peck on the lips, but it made Stiles' heart race and his knees weak. When Derek let him go, it was to sprint down the hallway towards the stairs, too much of a chicken to look back.

Stiles stepped back into the apartment to look over at Scott who was smirking from the kitchen. "So," Scott started conversationally, "how was your night?"

Stiles gaped at him before shouting, "this is coming from the guy who didn't come home until this morning!

* * *

"Hello?"

_"Is this Stiles Stilinkski?"_

Stiles picked up his coffee on his desk where he was writing. "It is, what can I do for you?"

_"Ahh, well this is Laura Hale."_

Stiles blinked rapidly and set down his coffee. "Uhh."

_"Derek's sister,"_ she explained further, like that was the problem.

"No, I know who you are I just—umm…how did you get my number?"

There was a pause. _"I stole it off of Derek's phone. But like, not in a creepy way."_

"Okay, well hello Derek's sister who stole my number but not in a creepy way…what can I do for you?" Stiles' eyes narrowed suspiciously and then suddenly he sat up straight. "Wait, Derek is okay, right?"

_"What? Yeah he's fine," Laura answered quickly. "…Well, he's very unDerekish. This kid has been my best friend my entire life, and suddenly when I come to visit he doesn't even have the decency to be on time to pick me up from the airport."_

Stiles cringed where he sat, suddenly feeling like the room went up several degrees. "Oh, yeah, um—"

_"And what does he tell me? He was on a date and they fell asleep on the coach. He was on a _date_ like a real one that Peter didn't push him into for publicity. Derek willingly went on a date with someone, a Stiles Stilinski." _She paused, her voice not giving anything.

"Yeah, about that," Stiles began, "I'm really sorry. We didn't mean to fall asleep. Derek was all excited to see you, I promise. Time just got away from us last night and I know Derek was happy that you were coming—"

_"That's the thing! I know Derek was happy to see me. You want to know why? He smiled and hugged me when he got to me. And the little dweeb is making conversation! An entire lifetime of silent brooding and suddenly he's the biggest chatter box on the planet!"_

"I don't—"

_"Oh, don't get me wrong. If you bring up books, Derek could probably talk for hours. But I'm not really a reader. But this time, oh no, every five seconds he's telling me some ridiculous story about _Stiles Stilinski! _And so I think to myself, this is stupid. I haven't met this guy and apparently he's the greatest thing since Dick Van Dyke. So I say I've got to meet him. And what does Derek say to me? 'No, Stiles is incredibly shy and I don't want you ruining things between us.' Can you believe that? He doesn't want me to meet this guy. So, I stealthily sneak Derek's phone off of him and steal this guy's number. And do you know what I do?"_

Stiles wasn't sure if he was meant to be laughing or booking a flight out of the country so he replied, "uh?"

_"I invite him to lunch because we have simply got to meet. One O'clock work for you? We can pick you up and the three of us will go out. How about that?"_

"Oh," Stiles said slowly, feeling very small. "I don't know. It isn't that I don't want to meet you I just…umm going out I—"

_"Oh, that's right. Derek told me,"_ she said, all normal, without judgment. "_It's the opposite of most people. You don't want to be seen with famous people. Well how about we order a pizza and get to know one another. Derek say's you've got an apartment."_

Stiles bit his lip as a small smile snuck onto his face. He wasn't sure, but he was pretty positive he and Laura would get along just fine. "How can I say no? Not every day you have a chance to eat lunch with the famous Laura Hale."

_"Good," _she laughed contently. Suddenly there was a noise on her end and a quick rustle. _"What?" _he heard her say to someone. _"Oh! I'm talking to Stiles. Took his number off your phone. Oi!" _What sounded like a struggle met Stiles' ear as he waited with amusement. _"Hey! Derek give it back! That's my phone!"_

_"Didn't stop you from taking mine," said a lower voice, gruff and unhappy. It then softened in a questioning voice, "Stiles?"_

"The one and only," Stiles replied, delighted, laughing through the line.

_"Oh God," Derek groaned. "I'm so sorry. Laura's a little insane. The fame has gone to her head. You can't believe anything she says; she's delusional."_

_"HEY!"_

"Well she invited me for lunch so she could meet me," Stiles said, enjoying Derek's mortification too much to be a good person.

Stiles waited through another long pause.

_"And uh—what did you tell her?"_

Stiles leaned back in his chair, swallowing as quietly as he could. "Well, I said I'd see you guys at one. But if you'd rather not that's okay, I just thought—"

_"No, I—Laura would like to meet you. I'd like her to meet you."_

Stiles smiled into the phone, "Well, okay then. That's settled. I'll see you at one for pizza?"

"We'll be there."

* * *

Laura was very beautiful. She was tall and thin, with long dark hair and eyes that were the same brilliant shade as Derek. But she was very different from Derek. Just by the phone call Stiles could see that they shared very few similarities.

But when Stiles answered the door, he found her standing there with a pizza box and a giant grin. "Well, hiyah!" she said with a smirk. "Derek's just cleaning up a bit of a mess. I can be such a klutz." Laura didn't wait for Stiles to step aside, she pushed herself in, setting the pizza box on the counter.

"Uhh, sure," Stiles gave a nervous laugh, tracking her movement as she looked about the apartment.

"It'll give us a moment to get to know one another," she said, stopping at his book shelf to study the titles. "You live here? It's kind of empty but for books and movies."

Stiles shrugged, walking over to stand next to her. "I moved in here with my friend Scott. We're just renting from a friend who was using it before us." He was amazed at how comfortable she seemed. She stood up straight and tall without hesitation in her stride.

Laura nodded, eyes sharp. She then turned to look at Stiles with no trace of smile or mirth in her eyes. "Alright, Mr. Stilinski, let's cut to the chase. What do you want with Derek?"

Stiles felt himself relax a bit despite himself, recognizing the over protective family member in action. "I like Derek," said lowly, smiling faintly. "I—I mean I know we're really different but…Derek isn't what I expected. He's one of my best friends….and he gets my whole anxiety thing. He doesn't mind that I can't…that I won't be in the public eye or whatever. He doesn't take it personally. He's a good guy."

"To be frank, _Stiles,_" she said his name like it was a joke, "I want to make sure you're not trying to take advantage of my baby brother. It's something we people in the business understand. You can't trust anyone, not really. Why should I trust you, Stiles? What makes you so different from all the other people around?"

Stiles wasn't surprised, really, but he didn't know what to say to the accusation. He stared at her for a moment, not knowing the correct response. He could spend the whole afternoon discussing how good of friends they were. He could tell her stories and explain situations. But Stiles had a feeling none of that would mean a damn thing to her. "Because I'm in love with your brother."

"Lots of people would say that," Laura stated, cold and uncaring.

Stiles looked up at his books, the bookshelf stuffed with his favorites. "Lots of people might be in love with Derek Hale the extraordinary actor with charm and good looks," Stiles admitted. "But I could never love that Derek, awed by him—sure. But a book worm with a snappy, angsty personality and a seriously warped idea of who the best superhero is…yeah, I guess I fell pretty hard."

She studied him then, meeting his eyes with challenge and uncertainty. But her gaze softened suddenly and she shook her head with amazement. "Jesus, you're as bad as he is. You know he—"

It was then that the door opened to let in Derek Hale. "Laura? I thought you were going to wait for me." A small smile then pulled at his face, "Hey, Stiles."

Stiles grinned back. "Derek, I was wondering if you got lost."

"She hasn't been bothering you, has she?" Derek joked but a small gleam in his eyes showed serious concern.

But Laura answered with a laugh, pulling Stiles into a side hug. "We were just getting to know each other, Derek. Stiles and I are practically best friends already." And it was then that Stiles learned that it wasn't only Derek who could layer on the charm thick when he wanted to.

In the end, Stiles decided he liked Laura, even if she was as scary as Lydia and Derek put together. She understood Stiles' love for superheroes and confessed the possibility of her starring in a new DC movie of Wonder Woman.

Stiles thought he was going to die.

"So are you two like…boyfriends or?" Laura suddenly asked, breaking in the middle of a conversation.

Stiles jerked back, fumbling with the piece of pizza in his hands as his eyes slid to Derek who had gone completely still.

Derek was glaring at Laura as if he could kill her if he stared at her hard enough. "Laura," he said slowly, taking a drink of water. "I told you, Stiles and I have been on one date." He didn't look at Stiles.

"Yeah," she agreed, as if only just remembering. "But Stiles wants to be, don't you Stiles?"

"I think that's a discussion that ought to be left just for Derek and I," Stiles said simply before choking down as much water as he could, avoiding her knowing look.

"Well I know Derek wants to be, don't you Derek?"

Derek's eyes grew, as if he couldn't believe his sister could be so cruel. He snuck a look at Stiles but then snapped his gaze back to Laura. "Shut up, Laura, you're meddling."

Laura leaned over to Stiles who was just putting down his water glass. "He thinks that because he's famous and you're super afraid of people that you won't want to be with him," she confided in a loud whisper. "He thinks that you wouldn't like secret dates and that you couldn't tell anyone or you'd be all over the news. He's afraid it isn't enough for you." Her voice was laced with knowing, like it was a conspiracy. "He does want to be with you though."

"Laura!" Derek barked, glaring at her and flaring his nostrils. "Shut up. Just shut the hell up."

Stiles swallowed, realizing that Derek wasn't denying it. He leaned back in his chair to shrug, turning to Laura as if to whisper back, "I sure hope he wants to be because otherwise the conversation for just the two of us later is going to be very sad for me."

Derek fell silent, staring at Stiles. Stiles pretended not to notice as he reached for another slice of pizza.

"You know," Laura said slowly, "I was skeptical, but…I think I like you, Stiles."

Stiles grinned back. "Well you scare me immensely, but I think I like you too."

Derek groaned, sinking into his seat.

As Derek and Laura went to go, Stiles grabbed Derek's arm to slow him down. Laura walked out the door, still talking about some movie when Stiles shut the door on her. He pushed at Derek's shoulders until they were against the door, and he pulled Derek's face to his own. Stiles fumbled a bit, his hands nervously twitching, but he was determined.

Derek didn't jerk in surprise or squeak when Stiles grabbed him, he didn't hesitate at all. Maybe it was because Derek's life was made up on acting, and reacting. But it didn't feel like that. It was like Derek was acting purely on instinct when he put his hands on Stiles' hips to kiss him back. The kiss was just like them, fast and knowing but thoughtful and passionate. Stiles let his fingers pull into Derek's hair, deepening the kiss and making Derek growl.

When the two of them finally pulled back for air, Stiles pumped the air for victory with his right hand and Derek just grinned down at where their hands were suddenly interlaced. He slowly looked back up at Stiles so they could both grin stupidly at one another for a good long moment.

"We're going to talk about this soon, right?" Derek asked, keeping his lips so close to Stiles' that they were breathing the same air.

Stiles pulled away to let Derek take a step from the door. "Very soon I hope."

Derek took another step forward to capture Stiles' lips with his own again. Stiles divulged for a moment but pulled back reluctantly to raise an eyebrow. "Derek, your sister is waiting for you."

Not looking the slightest bit put out, though quite possibly a bit disappointed, Derek sighed and nodded. "Laura has to go back in tomorrow afternoon. I will be free during the evening. Will you come over?"

"I think you could persuade me," Stiles replied, pulling open the front door.

"And we can talk?" Derek pressed, getting a coy smile in return.

Laura was there, waiting. She lifted an eyebrow and gave Derek a thoroughly smug look. But Derek paid her no heed, he just walked .on past her with a spring in his step that Stiles could have sworn hadn't been there earlier.

"Bye," Stiles said quietly, just before he was out of earshot.

Derek spun around, looked Stiles right in the eye and grinned. "Bye, Stiles."

* * *

Stiles showed up as planned, not bothering to knock. He pushed open the hotel door and didn't say a word. He shut the door behind him, threw his coat on a chair, and walked right up to Derek like he couldn't bear to be anywhere else.

"Stiles," Derek started, offering a small, hopeful smile.

"Okay," Stiles said, looking him right in the eye. "The big question then….are you my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, if you want me to be, Stiles. I'm happy to be your boyfriend," Derek said, unable to look away from the strong gaze of Stiles. "I've thought about it for awhile."

Derek wasn't allowed to speak after that because he was too busy melting against the strong grip of Stiles Stilinski. His lips were soft, comforting almost. Stiles pulled Derek to him like a starving man, as if nothing else mattered but the two of them. His grip was surprisingly strong, yet not forceful. Derek was helpless to do nothing but hold Stiles just as tight, letting the frustration and fear that had built up get dragged from him.

Derek pressed their lips together harder, deepening the kiss.

"Stiles," Derek moaned as the other man dragged his hands beneath Derek's shirt, running hot fingertips against his skin.

"Jesus, Derek," Stiles breathed against the skin of his neck. "Do you know what you do to me?" He tugged at Derek's shirt, impatient in the best kind of way. It made Derek want to slow things and speed it up at the same time.

Derek let Stiles pull off his shirt, desperate for more contact.

It made his heart race, the way Stiles was. Derek had never seen him so sure, so confident. It was like Stiles had more faith in Derek than he had in himself. It made Derek's heart race and his grip tighten.

"Bedroom?" Stiles demanded, grabbing Derek's arms and wrapping them around Stiles' small frame. Stiles pushed his arms to wrap around Derek's neck. He kissed Derek again and smiled at him, sucking away the fear and anger that spun inside Derek.

Derek took his cue, taking Stiles' weight as the boy jumped upward to wrap his legs around Derek's waist. Neither of them could bite back moans as Derek managed to hold on to enough sanity to walk them to the bedroom.

* * *

"I want this to work," Derek confided in a low whisper as they laid across the matress, just coming back to their senses. "I really like you, Stiles. I've never—I guess I've never really felt this way about anyone before. It's new and scary and…and it's exciting."

Stiles pressed tighter against Derek, a lazy smile on his face. "Me too, Derek. I really want this to work."

"I was going to make you dinner, you know," Derek said, laughing down at Stiles who frowned. "But you kind of distracted me."

"Didn't hear you complaining," Stiles huffed a reminder, looking up at him.

"Oh, never," Derek promised with a smile, lifting Stiles' face to his so he could kiss him softly. "But uh…it's getting late."

Stiles waited for Derek to ask him to leave. But it never came.

"I could make you breakfast instead," he said, skipping the awkwardness that Stiles would have fumbled with. It was a safe way, really, to ask if Stiles would spend the night. Not that there was ever any danger of Stiles of saying no.

Stiles grinned widely, snuggling further into the bed. "Yeah? I'd like that."

Derek smiled in return, tightening his hold. "I just want this moment right here to last forever."

Stiles mumbled his agreement before smirking up at his boyfriend. "Because I'm so sexy or because you're so happy?"

Derek clucked his tongue and shook his head, holding back a loud bark of laugher. "Oh most certainly both."

Stiles considered that for a moment before reaching over Derek and picking his phone off from the night stand. He turned it and clicked something before Derek even knew what he was doing. But when Stiles turned the screen back to them to see, Derek was pleasantly surprised.

Both of them had lazy smiles and drooping eyes. You could see just by the cropped photo how tangled up they were. They looked crazy and messy and disorderly but Derek couldn't help but think he'd never seen a more perfect photo in his life.

"There," Stiles said, clicking 'save' on his phone. "I'll send it to you and that way...the moment's captured forever." He let out a yawn then, setting the phone back down and shutting his eyes to quickly fall asleep.

Derek was up a little while longer though, staring down at the man and thinking that in that moment, in that exact moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

**Okay to make up for taking forever to update I'll update very very soon! I'll update tomorrow afternoon or after the tenth person reviews so keep your eyes peeled for an update! BTW it looks like this will be 5/6 chapters long instead because I got a bit carried away! Hope you liked it! Take care!**


	4. Don't Say Goodbye

**As Promised:**

* * *

"No, I'm just saying he doesn't actually have any _super powers_ so how can he be a real _super_ hero?"

Stiles gawked at him with horror, "Oh my God, you're not joking! Because he's fucking _BATMAN_ that's why he's a super hero." Stiles covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, rubbing them in exasperation. "I just—he's Batman, Derek! Batman!"

"Superman would completely kick his ass," Derek told him seriously. "He'd break him like he was made of glass."

Stiles mock gasped, clutching at his heart.

Derek raised his eyebrows in a way that Stiles deemed exceptionally judgmental.

Stiles stuck out his tongue in retaliation, making Derek roll his eyes but a small smile crack across his face. "You just don't understand."

"I really don't," Derek agreed. "I never understood a lot about 'superheroes.'"

Stiles cocked his head to the side, intrigued now. He saddled closer to Derek, mimicking the eyebrow raise that Derek was so fond of bestowing. "Like what?"

Derek scowled, "like secret identities. Why does Superman really need to keep it a secret? Who the hell could actually hurt Superman? It's stupid."

Stiles shook his head like he was disappointed in Derek. "Derek, babe, sugar, Derrykins—" He was swatted at for his efforts but Stiles ducked to avoid the arm Derek pushed towards him. Stiles laughed at him. "Look, you're missing the point. For one, Superman wouldn't be able to live a normal life if everyone knew the truth. No one would treat him the same way. He deserved some privacy, so he made another identity."

"Like using a pen name," Derek commented, throwing Stiles completely.

It was times like this that Stiles wondered if Derek somehow knew. It was that or Derek had an unhealthy obsession with _C. Sparks,_ which Stiles couldn't help but be pleased with. "Are you comparing _Sparks_ to a Superhero?"

Derek just shrugged, seemingly more interested in staring at Stiles' lips than continuing the conversation. Stiles rolled his eyes but pushed towards Derek to kiss him quickly and then murmur, "Batman is awesome."

* * *

Stiles rubbed at his eyes, leaning back and yawning while trying to see the clock on the wall. He stretched his arms over his head and tiredly smacked his lips. It was well into the night, and Stiles was starting to get extremely tired.

But Alexander was wide awake and in the middle of a fight so there really wasn't any use trying to go to sleep until after he'd finished writing the scene.

Since he could use a break however, Stiles stood slowly, twitching as his joints creaked. He made his way through the apartment, sleepily trying not to trip over everything. He managed not to fall face first into the floor but did stumble several times until he was in the kitchen. Fumbling hands succeeded in get ahold of a cup and he retrieved a full glass of water.

"It's not about what's worth dying for," he whispered to himself before taking a sip of his water, pushing his hip against the counter to lean. "It's about…It's not about what's worth dying for, it's what we're willing to live for that matters." He nodded a few times, squinting at the dark like he was daring it to criticize his line. He continued to mutter the line to himself as he wandered back towards the glow of his laptop where it rested at the desk.

Nimble fingers tapped at the keyboard, making the life in Stiles' head spill across the screen. Another quick peak at the clock on the wall lead Stiles to believe he was probably not going to sleep tonight. The world of shifters was overruling the real world at the moment. Alexander's life was taking precedence over Stiles' because Stiles knew if he tried to sleep he wouldn't be able to. His mind was too busy thinking about the feel of claws against a forearm to allow him to sleep.

Stiles figured something to drink could probably make sleep a little easier to get, but Stiles wasn't that kind of guy. It wasn't worth it. He had to get it out of his system if he wanted to crash.

He would probably be rather useless tomorrow. Good thing he was just hanging out with Derek.

Derek. It was sort of unreal and unbelievably perfect at the same time. In some ways, Stiles couldn't imagine them not being together now. Derek was perfect for Stiles in every way. Derek was willing to listen during his tangents and word vomits, but he accepted silence as well, understood the need for complete silence during reading and writing time.

And Derek didn't ask questions. He never asked what Stiles was doing with the laptop anymore. He never tried to snoop. He just let it go and didn't seem at all offended that Stiles wasn't jumping to show him.

It made Stiles want to tell him the truth.

With Derek, it wasn't about anxiety, Stiles was too comfortable around him. When it came to Derek it was about proving himself.

Yeah, Stiles got that it was stupid, but Derek was perfect for Stiles in every way. Stiles wanted to show Derek how perfect he was for him too. Stiles fit into Derek's life like the two of them had been molded together. Fear held him back, and a bit of habit.

Stiles shook his head, regaining focus. He shut his eyes for a moment, concentrating on what he was trying to say, before painting the image across the page. He could see it, behind his eyelids.

There was so much blood, it splattered across trees, and dripped onto the forest floor. It was dark and red and sticky and just the thought of it was enough to make Stiles' stomach churn. Amongst all the blood, all the vacant stares from lifeless bodies, all the devastation, stood Alexander.

Stiles could see the look on his face, the pure helplessness, emptiness, fear. And then the way that he shifted his stance and cleared his throat, like he could make all the fear just melt away. But the loss stayed, the sadness clung to him like it was a part of him.

Stiles sighed, letting his fingers release it all outward.

He's had nightmares about this scene, spent hours thinking about it, but writing it made it more real. It didn't matter that it was his work, or that he controlled the story because he wrote Alexander's pain like he was feeling it himself, because in some ways, he was. Alexander was real to Stiles, a real person in a real world where real things—terrible things, were happening.

Alexander had pain; he knew prejudice and disgust from a people who weren't so different from him. He knew power and responsibility. He had been hunted down like a dog, and he had been hailed as a hero. He saw and he learned and he understood. He was no king, he was just a boy, and he was what the people needed.

Stiles didn't write because he loved it. Loving the writing was a bonus. Stiles wrote because the stories played in his head as the hours passed, the words—the words of his characters—echoed through his brain. He wrote because it was like a painting, an image in his head he wanted on paper but he used words instead of color.

Stiles wrote because Alexander had a story to tell.

"Stiles?" Scott croaked, leaning on the doorway to his bedroom. "I think you should go to sleep."

Stiles blinked at the clock and then nods stiffly. He'd been just sitting there, staring at the screen for a while. He chuckled lowly, standing up. "Yeah, yeah I'm going."

"Did you save it?" Scott inquired as he turned and trudged back into his room, precautious even half asleep.

"Yeah," Stiles replied with a faint smile. He auto piloted to his bedroom and feel face first into his bed, falling asleep as his eyes fell shut.

* * *

When Stiles woke again it was peaceful. From the sound of it, Scott was already working at his computer in his room, speaking loudly on the phone with someone. "Page 321….yeah, that's the start of the—"

But Stiles was tired and didn't care enough. He sat up slowly, stretching outwards like a cat and groping around for his phone. He couldn't help but smile down at it.

**Derek: **_You coming in today?_

**Derek: **_Stiles?_

**Derek: **_You still alive?_

**Stiles: **_I'm alive! Sorry, slept in_

**Derek: **_Stiles. It's noon._

**Stiles: **_I know I know. Late night_

**Derek: **_Want another one?_

Stiles nearly choked, a surprise bubble of laughter erupting from him. But before he could reply he received another message.

**Derek: **_I meant like a movie night. Jesus. _

**Derek: **_But that works too_

**Stiles: **_Derek you're going to kill me. Fuck_

**Derek: **_Later_

**Stiles: **_Omg does this qualify as sexting? Is Derek Hale sexting me? _

**Derek: **_I'm not sexting._

**Derek: **_I'm making plans_

**Stiles: **_Glad to be included _

**Derek: **_You wanna get lunch together?_

**Stiles: **_Is that a euphemism?_

**Derek: **_No. It's a meal_

**Stiles: **_Yeah :) See you at 1?_

**Derek: **_yes _

Derek tucked his phone away, smirking around.

"Talking to Stiles?" Erica questioned, leaning in towards him.

"Mhmm," Derek answered, leaning back in the makeup chair, waiting.

Erica pulled herself in front of Derek, leaning her back against the counter so she was facing him. "He coming in today?"

Derek looked up slowly, not bothering to hide the smile, "Just for lunch. He's busy."

"What does he do, anyway?"

Derek shrugged, "no idea."

"You're dating him," Erica said slowly, her eyebrows rising. "How do you not know?"

Derek blinked over at her, "We just don't talk about it."

"Okay, so he's probably like a spy or something, right?"

Derek barked a laugh, staring incredulously at her serious face, "What?"

"Yeah," she said nodding, agreeing with herself. "He totally works for the government."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Stiles is not a spy. I mean, it's Stiles. It's a ridiculous theory and then you tack the fact that it's _Stiles_ onto it."

"Okay, so what does he do?"

"I don't know…not that," Derek shook his head laughing. "You're as random as he is."

Erica put her hands up in a surrender of sorts, "I'm just saying." She winked then, showing her amusement.

"You remind me of Laura sometimes," Derek told her, shaking his head.

Erica grinned, "Well Laura's great! She met Stiles, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, "she's nosy."

"But you haven't told the rest of your family about Stiles, huh?" Erica inquired, raising an eyebrow at him.

Derek shrugged, "Laura and I have always been there for one another. The rest of my family is more…complicated. You've met my parents, you know how they are."

"Never thought I'd ever meet someone who could walk all over you," Erica muttered.

"Hey!" Derek glowered at her. "They're just…my parents. They don't listen; they just judge and try to run my life. I guess that's what I like about Stiles, he always listens and he doesn't question my choices or…" he tossed his arms up lightly, "he's just Stiles."

"Must be love," Erica giggled, her eyes flashing wild with glee as Derek scowled. She bit her lip then, almost hesitant in a way that wasn't natural on her face. "Actually, I uh—wanted your advice about something."

Derek raised an eyebrow slowly. "What kind of something?"

"Well a…personal something—a someone, rather."

Derek let out an exasperated sputter, "You're not seriously coming to _me_ for relationship advice!"

"Hey!" She frowned at him. "Look, it's just that things with you and Stiles are going so well and I'm sure as hell not talking to Lydia…I—please?"

Derek rolled his eyes, blaming Stiles for his new found heart. "Okay, what is it?"

Erica beamed, sliding closer to him, "Okay, well there is this guy…and I really like him but I don't know if he likes me—"

"He does," Derek interrupted, taking a drink from his water bottle.

"You don't even know who I'm talking about," Erica swatted at him. "But thanks for the vote of confidence. I want to ask him out but I don't want…I mean if he's going to say no—"

"Erica," Derek cut her off again. "Boyd, right?"

Erica paused to gape at him, whipping her head around while going red in the face. "I—how did you—" She blinked rapidly at him and then recollected herself. "You're kidding me, right? I am not obvious, no way. There is no way that unobservant, uncaring Derek noticed I was crushing on someone."

Derek cleared his throat, rolling his eyes, "You're right. I'd never pay attention to something like that. But Stiles has an eye for detail."

Erica's jaw dropped, and then hardened, "that little shit."

"He wasn't actually positive how you felt about Boyd," Derek continued, ignoring her but somewhat agreeing with her, "but he's pretty positive Boyd is head over heels for you."

Erica looks taken aback at that, like she wants to believe him but she's desperately trying to be "smart enough" to know better. Instead she looks away, narrowing her eyes and rolling them at the same time in a way perfected by her sheer Ericaness. "Pfft. Yeah, right."

Derek just huffs, scratching a hand through his hair. "I'm not really in the game of messing with people and their emotions."

Erica gives him a harsh set of side eyes and then relaxes slightly, "good God, is this what love does to people? You're not the Derek I remember."

"That a bad thing?"

"No," Erica replies thoughtfully, standing up straight to fix the rumple in her shirt and check her face in the mirror. "It suits you. Happy looks good on you."

* * *

"And then she asked me what I did for a living," Scott explained. "So I told her I worked for a publishing company. But I don't think she made the connection. I swear she doesn't know."

Stiles nodded, trying to stay calm about that. "Okay, that's alright. I mean, its Allison anyway. She wouldn't tell anyone."

Scott looked at Stiles then, moving his jaw from side to side as he thought. "Have you told Derek yet? I mean, you said you wanted to tell him."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, then scowling at nothing. "But now we're like…in a relationship. I don't…I don't want to ruin things."

"Ruin things?" Scott exclaimed rolling his eyes. "Stiles, you realize you're a best-selling author, not a serial killer, right? He's obsessed with your books so it would be like a bonus to him!"

"I know that but…what if he's mad that I didn't tell him before? He's told me so much and I—"

"You're only putting it off even farther. Derek will understand, Stiles. But you've got to give him the chance. You'll see," he promised. "It will all work out, Stiles."

"Right," Stiles said, picking up the _Hunted_ book up from the coffee table. "It will all work out."

"They're good, Stiles. You're a good writer. Maybe hearing it from him…you'll actually believe it. You know, it just makes you two even more of a perfect match then he thought. It'll make things even easier between the two of you."

"Thanks, Scotty."

"I mean it Stiles."

"I'll tell him," Stiles promised.

Scott urged, "soon!"

Absently, Stiles nodded with a slow heaviness. "Today," he agreed. "You're at Allison's tonight?"

"She's got a better set up," Scott said, blushing. "I'm really happy with her. She's pretty great."

Stiles grinned, "she really is. I'm glad we're doing so well, Scott."

Scott pulled the book out of Stiles' hands and threw it into his bag where it was secured around his shoulders. He gave his friend the best smile he could manage and then pushed him towards the door. "You'd better go," Scott insisted.

"Right," Stiles shook his head, adjusting the strap of his bag and nodding. "Today."

* * *

Derek knew something was off the moment Stiles arrived. He was more jittery than usual, but he didn't talk more than usual—less, if he was being honest. Stiles walked onto the set and greeted his friends with the usual subtlety, though most people who worked on the set knew who Stiles was.

When Stiles caught Derek's eye he smiled softly, offering a small wave and lifting a bag of Chinese food. Derek's favorite. And that's when Derek first felt a pit in his stomach.

When Derek was finally let to leave to grab lunch, he had to stop himself from breaking out into a run. He hadn't actually been able to see Stiles in a few days. It was agony, really, to want to talk to someone all the time and only be able to share a few texts.

"Derek," Stiles grinned at him from the ground as he pulled out the food.

"Stiles," Derek smiled back, leaning down to steal a kiss. But it was a quick kiss, cut short by Stiles pushing him back and laughing.

"Derek, come on, we've got food!" Stiles announced, waving his arms over the cuisine. "I don't think I ate yesterday so I'm eager to shovel it down my throat!"

Derek snorted but sat back obediently, picking up chopsticks as Stiles opted to use a fork. "How do you just forget to eat?"

Stiles shrugged before forking a large amount of rice into his mouth.

Derek checked the time before picking up his own food. They were silent for a long moment before Derek decided to speak. "So I—well I've been thinking," Derek began, shifting slightly where he sat. "There is only a little more than a month of filming left."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, nodding. "That's exciting, right?"

"It's just that I was wondering what we were going to do when we don't live down the road from one another anymore."

Stiles blinked over at him, wide eyed and startled. "Oh."

Derek didn't like the look on Stiles' face, like he was a deer caught in headlights. "Have you not thought about it?"

Stiles leaned back, twiddling the fork in his hand. "No, of course I've thought about it! I just—well I wasn't sure how you'd feel about a long distance relationship."

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, pausing his eating.

"Well I live in Beacon Hills," Stiles began and then stopped to take another bite of food. "You do not. I mean, it's not like we couldn't fly to go see each other from time to time but…"

"Right," Derek agreed, building up his confidence. "I was thinking that maybe we, the two of us, could get an apartment together."

Stiles stopped his fork midair. It was like everything had stopped, even as Stiles' mind ran a thousand miles per hour. Derek had never wanted the ability to read minds as much as he did in that moment.

"You want to live together," Stiles said slowly, moving his fork again in a distracted manner. "Huh."

"Well I know we've only been together for two months but…well we've known each other for quite a while."

"I don't know if you could survive."

"I was just an idea," Derek finished, ignoring his outburst.

Stiles went silent then, looking around. When his eyes flashed back to Derek it was with an expression that Derek couldn't perfectly place. "We can…talk about it later. It's just, well it's just that I've been putting off—"

"Derek!" came a gruff voice. "Hey, Derek, we're having a bit of trouble with the head set. Can you come fit it on now?"

Stiles looked off towards the set even as Derek's eyes stayed trained on him. "You should go. I don't—Can we finish this discussion later this evening? Can you come over to mine when you're done here? I…there is something I want to talk to you about."

Derek merely nodded before scrambling to get up. "Sure, Stiles. I'll be there." He took off at a slow face towards the set. When he looked back at Stiles he gave him a smile, but when it was returned it looked off and uncertain.

And Derek felt, in that one moment, like the world around him had lit on fire.

Stiles watched him go, his heart thrumming inside of him. Derek wanted to live together. Derek trusted Stiles enough to want to share a home with him, to take their relationship more seriously. It was exactly what Stiles wanted. Everything sounded just perfect in every way. And Stiles felt like vomiting.

What was Derek going to say now, when all that trust came tumbling down? A part of Stiles recognized that fact that he was being stupid, but Stiles couldn't help but be afraid of how the truth would affect the perfect relationship. Stiles knew Derek was it for him, knew that he could never find someone that perfect ever again.

And Stiles was afraid.

* * *

"I am a monster!" Derek screamed, his teeth bared and his eyes watering. "I am everything that they ever claimed I was! I am blood thirsty and angry and uncontrollable and immoral and without mercy! I want them dead! I want to feel their blood run down my claws when I sink them into their flesh and steal their breaths! I want to hear the exact moment when their heart stops beating! I will not feel penitence in the slightest for their deaths, I will howl in joy when I know they're all under the ground!"

Lydia, and Erica stumbled back from Derek, fear shining on their faces. Isaac, though, Isaac stood near him, his own teeth baring. "Alexander you need to calm down. Listen to yourself. You're being stupid. You're a good man, a kind and understanding one. You're fighting to help people."

Derek turned slowly to face him, his breathing hard and his eyes stinging. "I was," Derek agreed, huffing in breathes of air. "I was a good man. But I am no longer that man. I have become the monster they always said I was. They have turned me into something to fear. And I'll watch that fear flash in their eyes and their children's eyes. I'll kill them all and feel no remorse."

"I don't believe that," Lydia said softly, her face streaked with burning tears. "You're upset, Alex. But you're haven't changed. You couldn't if you wanted to." She stepped towards him then, a stumbling step. "She's dead, Alex. We can't change that."

Derek sank to his knees then, his hands clenching into tight fists as he fought to keep himself from shifting. He was shaking, like his entire body was vibrating. He jerked forward, as if he were vomiting until there was nothing left in his stomach and then he just gagged into the air. He stayed crouched on the ground, unwilling to look up.

"They're all dying," Derek says in a choked voice, still kneeling on the ground. "Every decent human being is getting caught up in this damn war! I can't do this anymore, Vera!" His claws are in the ground now, digging into the soil. "I almost lost you, now Kets is dead. And all I can think about is making them pay."

"Kets wouldn't want you to be—"

"—She was a kid," Derek reminded in a bitter voice, harsh and raw. He pulled himself together then, breathing in hard and breathing out slowly. When he stood again he refused to look at their faces, just gripped tight to the bottom of his shirt. "I'm tired," he whispered, "and I'm afraid."

* * *

Isaac wiped his eyes hard when they wrapped up the scene, laughing in a sputtered laugh. "God that scene's intense."

Derek just nods, still breathing heavy.

"It is the scenes like that," Isaac continued, "that really impress me about you, Derek. You're a great actor."

Derek paused his thoughts long enough to look up at Isaac and smile warmly. "Thank you Isaac, it means a lot, coming from you."

Isaac raised a surprised eyebrow, blinking a few times in rapid succession. "From me?"

Derek stood up straight to look Isaac over, "you're one of the best actors I've ever worked with. You completely step into a character, Isaac. It really is amazing."

Isaac didn't seem to know how to respond to that. His mouth was slightly open, though he didn't seem aware. He tried to slightly shake himself from his thoughts but it only managed to make him twitchy as he stared up at Derek. "Thank you, I mean—"

"I like working with you, Isaac," Derek finished, clapping the other man's shoulder lightly. "Good thing we're working on a series, huh?"

Isaac laughed at that, nodding with a smile. "Yeah, yeah."

Derek turned to go then, desperate to get out of his costume and makeup. Allison was smiling at him when he came over and he couldn't help but return it.

"Guess what?" Allison gushed as Derek sat down.

Derek rolled his eyes playfully, "what?"

"Scott and I were talking about what we're doing in between movies and…." Her grin grew even wider. "Scott and I both have Skype accounts and then on the weekends he's going to drive two hours to come see me!"

Derek laughed at her as she wiped at his face, taking the traces of makeup off. "That's wonderful, Allison. I'm so glad things are working out for you two."

She looked so elated, so overjoyed. "I just, I think he could be the one, ya know? I've never had a better relationship."

Derek nodded with a shrinking smile. He knew exactly what she meant.

She didn't seem to notice the shift in his emotion, only continued onward as she cleaned him up. "What about you and Stiles? Have you talked about how you're dealing with distance? You guys doing like long distance Skype and stuff?"

Derek refused to let himself stiffen. He merely cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm quite sure Stiles is breaking up with me this evening."

Allison froze then, her face turning to horror. "What?"

Derek tried to play off a calm, "well it's not that shocking. I mean, we're done filming again so and….well things are complicated."

"How do you know?" she demanded.

Derek looked up at her, his eyes watering slightly against his will (he blamed it on the scene they had just finished) and spoke, "I brought up maybe getting an apartment together. He got all nervous and said he actually had been putting something off and that we should talk tonight."

Allison's face dropped completely, as if the world had just come crashing down around her. Derek knew the feeling. "But you can't be sure—"

"No," Derek agreed, "but it's just…I don't think Stiles wants the relationship to go any farther. I can't…I can't ask him to—" He stopped in favor of sighing. "It's for the best, really. This silly secret relationship thing was going to get found out eventually. I couldn't put him through that. He'd be hounded forever."

"Derek," Allison breathed out, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I mean he seemed so happy…"

"It's okay," Derek told her, even though it wasn't.

* * *

When Stiles opened the door to his apartment it was six in the evening and Derek was nervous as hell. He didn't know how he was going to do it. He couldn't listen to Stiles say it, couldn't watch everything that was perfect in his life go away. He finally had something precious, something of his own, and he'd somehow managed to screw it all up.

The look on Stiles' face when he opened the door confirmed it all. He looked nervous too, white as a ghost actually. Derek wondered for a moment if Stiles thought Derek was going to try for some sort of hurtful revenge or something stupid. Like splash Stiles' photo and name across the internet with a story. But Derek could never do that. Not to anyone and especially not to Stiles.

He didn't blame Stiles for what was coming, just felt very sad about it.

Stiles was perfect in an imperfect way. He always tried to put too much food in his mouth. He talked too much and too fast. He couldn't stop moving to save his life. But he was the kindest person Derek had ever met, the most thoughtful and the smartest. He was gorgeous and sexy and hysterical and just—they were perfect and now they were over.

"Derek?" Stiles said softly after a moment, studying him in the doorway. He opened it wider, puling the bigger man in and placing his hands on either shoulder, to force Derek to look at him. It made Derek flinch and stop breathing. "Jesus, Derek are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Derek managed to grunt out. "Please, can we just do this?"

Stiles blinked up at him, as if confused. "Do what?"

"I know what you want to talk about, Stiles. I know what you're going to say. I just want to get it over with."

"You do?" Stiles blinked at him with eyes that grew twice in size.

Derek cleared his throat and looked away. "Please, can you just say it? I—I'm going to be fine. I just can't stay here long, it hurts... I was happy, you know?"

Stiles grew silent for a long moment. "Derek," he began in a slow and incredulous voice, "what the _hell_ do you think I'm going to tell you?"

Derek looked up slowly, thrown off by the change in Stiles' tone of voice. "We're breaking up. Aren't we?"

Stiles went limp and unmoving, just stared at Derek where they both stood just within the entrance of the apartment. "Oh my God," Stiles whispered softly and then tightened his hold on Derek. "No, holy fuck, damn it, Derek! No I am not breaking up with you! Fuck, did I make you think that's what this was? Jesus no! God no!" Stiles exclaimed and then he was grabbing at Derek, pulling him into a hard kiss like it could erase all worry and doubt.

Derek melted into the kiss, letting Stiles dominate it and deepen it. It took several moments before Derek was kissing back heavily, pulling Stiles closer. He was crying; Derek was crying. His eyes were getting blurry with tears as he kept kissing Stiles.

When they finally broke the kiss, Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sofa. "I don't want to break up, Derek. That's the last thing I want."

"We're not…we're not breaking up?"

"No, Derek, no I do not want that."

Derek shook his head, his hands fisted into Stiles' shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm being a child. I jumped to conclusions and just…I—I'm sorry, Stiles."

"God, don't apologize, Derek," Stiles pleaded, his hands holding both sides of Derek's face. "I am so sorry for scaring you like that."

Derek let himself calm down then, his eyes whirling around the apartment in an attempt to rein in his emotions.

"Jesus," Stiles said, clutching Derek's hand into his own. "I've never seen you that upset before." He sat beside Derek on the couch, barely leaving any room between them. "I swear that I have no intention of breaking up with you. I am extremely happy with you. I've never been so serious about a relationship before."

Derek calmed down dramatically being near Stiles. "So we're okay?"

"I hope so," Stiles said, watching Derek's face closely. He pushed Derek back and tilted to his side so that he was in Derek's lap, curling into him. "Are _you_ okay?"

"A lot better now." Derek put a hand in Stiles' hair, tugging softly at the hairs. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Stiles mock growled at him, leaning into his touch. "Do you wanna talk?"

"You talk," Derek directed him, keep his hand in his hair.

"What should I talk about?"

"Well," Derek said slowly, immensely more calm. "I thought you wanted to talk to me about something."

Stiles' eyes widened then and his face seem to quickly pale once more. "We can—we can talk about it later. It's not that big a deal."

Derek considered his boyfriend for a moment, uncertain. "I really don't mind. Whatever it is, we can talk about it now."

"Ahh…well, see there's something I haven't told you," Stiles admitted with a deep breath. "It's actually kind of a big deal, to me anyway. I—well I really wanted to tell you but I—Jesus."

"Breathe, Stiles," Derek demanded. "Why are you so…antsy?"

"Yeah, because saying _breathe_ is going to make it better," Stiles snapped and then shut his eyes. "Sorry, that wasn't fair. I'm just a bit nervous."

"Whatever it is Stiles," Derek promised, "it'll be okay. I think we both just established that we really want this to work. We'll make it work."

Stiles twisted a bit so that he met Derek's eyes and stared into them He searched in them for something, some great answer the rest of the world had never been able to give him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before gripping Derek's free hand in his own. Derek gave him a reassuring squeeze so Stiles decided to start small. "Okay, well I'm a writer. That's what I like to do. I love to write more than anything in the whole wide world."

Derek grinned in a questioning way. "I actually figured that's what you were probably doing. I think's that great! I hear that people who read a lot are good writers. Are you like, a journalist? Is that why you were you so nervous telling me about that?" He looked at Stiles for a moment before leaning back and frowning. "If this is you trying to tell me you've been writing an article about me…"

"No," Stiles reassured him, tightening his hold in Derek's hand. "I would never do that to you, I swear. I'm not a journalist, I haven't the drive for something like that." Stiles swallowed, looking away. "Look, it was Scott's idea back in the day. He—well we would take writing classes together so he knew that I— He was better with the grammatical stuff, you know?—err, you know I'm so…"

"Stiles I don't know what you're trying to tell me," Derek said, honestly confused as hell.

"Remember that game we played at Lydia's party? Guessing who _C. Sparks_ is? Do you remember how nervous Scott and I were to—" Stiles stuttered before changing his direction once more. "Derek, I know who _Sparks_ is."

Stiles let that hang there, allowing the silence to cross over as Derek leaned back to process the information. His face was flashing signs of amazement as he began to go over everything he knew.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" Stiles asked.

Derek stared at him. "You're telling me…that you know who the all mysterious writer of the series that I'm making movies for. You're telling me that Scott…are you telling me Scott is_ Sparks_?"

"What?" Stiles exclaimed and then slumped into his chair, laughing at the very idea. "Oh, no. Scott was a technical writer, all essays and facts. He wanted to be an editor like his Godfather. That's what he does, edits. He works for _Collington Publishers. _He's amazing at it too."

"_Collington Publishers?" _Derek's eyes widened, his jaw dropping, like a realization washed over him. "Scott was one of the editors for the _Hunted_ series? He's met _Sparks?"_

Stiles smacked his hand to his face, "Oh my God! Derek, _I_ a_m_ the author of the _Hunted _series_._"

Silence. And then, "You—you're not," Derek said quickly but slurred the end to a halt in favor of staring at Stiles. After a moment Derek snorted and shook his head. "Funny, Stiles. But you're not _Sparks_."

Stiles felt like he was struggling for air. He swallowed hard and kept his eyes trained on the floor. "And how are you so sure? Think about it. You've built _Sparks_ up to be some kind of god but…what if he's just a really shy idiot who's in love with writing?"

_I just figure everyone's only so in love with them because they like the mystery of who wrote it. They all want to know who Sparks is but…well once the world knows, they won't care anymore._

Words from the past crept up on Derek to curl around his mind, echoing through his brain.

_Can't tell. It's a secret._

_I'm writing. Putting thoughts and ideas and such on paper. Just a bit of private writing._

Surely Derek hadn't missed something so painfully obvious. _Sparks_ was a larger than life writer with the power of words and a mysterious shadow. He wasn't a brilliant young man, a good friend, a shy but always loud, bumbling idiot. Stiles was translucent, easy to peg, and easy to understand. Wasn't he? This was Stiles, his Stiles. Perfect, wonderful, always in his own world Stiles.

"You can't be," Derek breathed, staring now, uncertain. "I'd have known. It isn't possible."

"Why? Because I'm some weird kid from a small town?" Stiles looked up through his lashes, sinking into himself. "I guess it does sound a bit farfetched…someone like me… _me_, a bestselling author. I know I don't look like much but…my writing…well I mean—"

Derek fell silent, reeling. He flipped through his memories, disgusted by how much he hadn't noticed at the time.

_I'd hate to be famous. People watching you all the time, thinking they know you. I'm a very private person. _

_There's more to me than meets the eyes. _

_I should think there are few classic authors I haven't read._

_Superman wouldn't be able to live a normal life if everyone knew the truth. No one would treat him the same way. He deserved some privacy, so he made another identity._

_I have impeccable taste in literature._

"I wanted to tell you," Stiles said suddenly, breaking Derek from his trance. "But it never seemed the right moment. Besides, I'm a terribly private dude. God, and then we started dating. I couldn't believe you wanted to…to be with me! Not me as _Sparks_ but just plain, stupid Stiles. I didn't want to screw anything up."

"I feel really stupid now." Derek blinked over at him, taking a step back, but then stepping forward again. "You wrote the books."

"I did," Stiles agreed slowly, as if he were afraid he'd broken Derek.

"And you sent me the book," Derek said. "And the notes about the character."

Stiles nodded in confirmation.

"God," Derek groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "How the hell have you been keeping all of this a secret for so long?"

Stiles cleared his throat. "Well, fear is a pretty good motivator."

Derek couldn't stop the bark of laughter that ripped itself from his throat. His hands slid away from his face so he could stare incredulously over at the writer. "Fear? What on earth are you afraid of?"

Stiles straightened up at that, looking Derek in his eyes. "I know, it's stupid." He began to pull his hand out of Derek's grasp, trying to keep himself still.

Derek felt a shot of ice down his spine as he tried to backtrack and undo the obvious insult that Stiles had taken his comment to be. "No, no, I just—I just don't know what you could be nervous about. Your books are huge, very well known, and loved. I…I don't know. I guess I don't understand why you wouldn't want everyone to know what you've accomplished."

Stiles relaxed at that, giving a sheepish grin. "Does this mean you're not mad at me?"

Derek exhaled sharply, cocking his head at Stiles. "Why would I be mad? Stiles, this is amazing! I—God I guess I should have known. It all makes sense now. I can't believe I've been so oblivious."

"Lydia figured it out," Stiles told him, twisting his face up. "At her party she just…I guess what you said just made it click in her head. Other than her…it's just basically Scott, Deaton, and my dad that know me personally and know what I do. There are others…people who haven't met me that know but...well I guess they don't really count."

Derek swallowed, staring at him. "I'm sorry. I'm dating the author of the _Hunted series. _My boyfriend wrote the fricking _Hunted_ books."

"Yes?" Stiles said, his eyebrows raising. "And I'm dating Derek Hale. Like, _the_ Derek Hale-the award winning movie actor, Derek Hale."

Derek snorted, "Right. I'm kind of still processing. But uh…start at the beginning, maybe? Why _Sparks?_ What are you doing here? Why did you ever even talk to me?"

Stiles nodded, pulling himself closer to Derek. "Well I started writing when I was kid because my mom liked to read. My mother's name was Claudia…. God, everyone loved her. She was great at talking in front of people, she could convince Satan to donate to a church. My mom was very famous for starting movements. She would get sway, get protests going. My mom made sure people got involved when there was injustice," Stiles said, hugging his thighs to his stomach, resting his chin on top of his knees. He smiled absently, shaking head. "They called her _Sparks_, a silly nickname from her coworkers. She really was something else."

"C. Sparks," Derek whispered, picking up the first book and then looking over at Stiles. "Alright, I may need a couple minutes to wrap my head around this. I know we've been through this, but run this by me one more time. You're _C. Sparks_?"

"Yeah."

"You wrote the books."

"Yeah?"

"I'm dating the Author of the _Hunted_ series."

"Yeah…if you still want to be," Stiles said sheepishly.

"Of course I—!" Derek cut off. "Jesus, Stiles I've never been as happy as I am right now, dating you. I like having someone to talk to and kiss and to care about who…who cares about me. This is..this is just the cherry on top. I mean, Stiles you're so talented. This series is fantastic!"

Stiles bit his lip, tapping the cover of the book in Derek's hand and then looking up nervously. "Do you—do you really think so? You like the books?"

Derek went silent again to blink in confusion. "Well, of course I like the series. They've been my favorite books for—you know how much I love the books. The first time we met my nose was buried in your book!"

Stiles smile started small as he fought it down but eventually he was beaming at Derek full force. "So…do you want to read the sixth book?"

Derek's eyes grew round and his jaw dropped. It was a long moment of Stiles trying not to laugh and Derek to trying to collect himself. "Now? I—can I? Is that an abuse of our relationship? Do you want me to wait?"

Stiles just reached into his bag and pulled out a package, a big grin on display. Atop the package, in familiar swirly letters was written:

_To Derek_

_From Stiles_

Derek took the package with a slow, amazed movement. He looked at Stiles with awe, taking it and then starting down at it. "Jesus, I can't believe this."

Stiles shifted in his seat. "Actually, before you start reading…I was hoping we could finish that conversation from earlier. If uh….the two of us getting an apartment together is still on the table…"

Derek looked up quickly. "Yeah? You, uh…you want to get an apartment together?"

"If—if you…I mean I promise not to be too annoying and I won't even leave my drafts all over the place and I'll clean up after myself and I won't hog the bathroom and I…God, Derek I want this to work. I love you." Stiles squeaked, cutting off, as if the last part wasn't intentional. His face went paler and he seemed to scrunch up in fear. It was like he was afraid he had ruined everything; yet he didn't take it back. He watched Derek then, waiting for some sort of reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Derek's eyes widened largely, his jaw dropping slightly before he let out a scratchy, "You mean that?"

Stiles sank into his seat, his cheeks flaming and his heart racing. He let a moment tick by before slowly nodding, "yeah, I do."

Derek's gaze turned soft and awed. "Me too. I—I love you too. I actually have been in love with you for quite a while." He smiled then, looking down once more at the book in his hands. "You love me." He began moving quickly, setting the novel aside on the coffee table in favor of reaching for Stiles in a fast, needy motion. "The book can wait. Clothing off, now."

Stiles blinked quickly before a wicked grin spilled across his face. "Hell yeah," he laughed, yanking his shirt upward, taking it off.

Derek tugged at Stiles desperately, pulling him by the belt loop towards the bedroom, while scrambling to take off his own jacket. They stumbled a few times, too busy grabbing at one another to pay attention to where they were stepping. They made it as far as the bedroom doorway before Derek had Stiles pinned up against the wall, leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. "I love you, God, I fucking love you, I love you so much."

Stiles groaned, pawing at Derek's back. "Derek, come on, come on," he urged, pushing at him, "clothes off." He grabbed at Derek's shirt before Derek took the hint and stepped back to pull it off in one fluid motion. Stiles took the moment to let out a wolf whistle and chuckle before Derek had him back in his hands, growling softly at him, fingers pulling at his zipper.

"Will you, uh," Derek questioned, biting at Stiles' lips, pulling back to look him in the eyes with meaning that registered.

"Yes," Stiles agreed with a moan shucking off his pants and making for Derek's, stumbling backwards into his bedroom. "God, I love you."

* * *

When Stiles woke it was due to a weight shift on his bed. He looked up slowly, just in time to appreciate the view of a very naked Derek making his way to the living room. Stiles took the moment to thank God that Scott was spending the night at Allison's again.

When Derek came back, he had a book with him. He saw Stiles looking at him as he pulled himself back into the bed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You looked very comfortable."

"Well you do make a very good pillow." Stiles pulled himself upward so he could lean into Derek's sitting position and look to where Derek was starting to open the book. "Ahh, starting it now?"

"You don't mind, do you?" Derek questioned as he grinned. "I don't think I can wait any longer. You ended the last one at such a good part. I have…two hours or so before I have to start getting ready."

"Mmm," Stiles agreed, humming softly. He snuggled in closer. "Well I'm awake now. Are you going to let me up while you read?"

Derek's arm tightened hold on Stiles. "No." He watched his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. "I love you," he whispered, softly with burning ears.

"I love you too," Stiles stole a kiss. "But if you're not letting me up then you're going to have to share the book."

Derek looked down at him then, pushing a hand slowly through his short hair. "Read it to me?"

"Huh?"

"Come on," Derek urged, pushing the book towards Stiles. "Please read it to me?"

Stiles huffed and shook his head but after a moment of looking at Derek he scrunched his eyebrows together. "Seriously? How is that for the cameras you are Mr. Charming, to everyone else you're like the scariest man alive, and yet you still manage to pull of puppy dog eyes. You want me to read it aloud? Why?"

Derek shrugged, his ears going red, "I like the sound of your voice. And I am not scary."

Stiles took the book slowly, watching Derek to make sure he wasn't joking before nestling in a more comfortable reading position. "_The air smelt stale in Alexander's nose, bitter and cold. The view was breathtaking though…"_

Derek smiled, reading the words as Stiles spoke them, excited and content.

Time passed and Stiles had to stop, causing Derek to whine, "No keep going. It's a good part."

Stiles flicked him in the nose, shaking his head in amusement. "Derek, we've got to get ready."

"Can't I call in sick?" Derek questioned, trying to grab the book.

Stiles was too fast though, moving swiftly out of reach. "Not a chance, Derek Hale. You've got a movie to make."

Derek grumbled as he moved to get out of bed, stopping a moment with bright eyes to look at Stiles and whisper, "love you," softly before stealing another kiss. He shut eyes and smiled lightly, "I like being able to say that."

"I knew you were a closet romantic," Stiles muttered, pretending to be annoyed but pulling Derek's forehead to his own to whisper, "love you too."

Derek nodded, like he was satisfied, "Time to shower."

"Scott will be back soon," Stiles warned after him, but grinning at the view that only slightly limped to the bathroom.

Derek stopped then, just in the light of bathroom door to give Stiles a heart stopping smile that, if Stiles was daring, he'd call _wolfish_. "Aren't you coming?"

Stiles never stumbled out of bed faster.

* * *

"It's a pretty big place," Stiles told him, staring around. "It's got a nice oven like you wanted, and a center island. It's not too…artistic with weird colors and stuff. It's about the right size for us."

_"Sounds great. We'll take it."_

Stiles snapped up straight, frowning at the phone. "But you haven't even seen it. At least let me shoot you some pictures."

_"Stiles, if you like I'm going to like it. I don't care where I am…I'm just excited about us getting out own place."_

"I haven't even told you the price tag yet," Stiles argued, finding it strange to be on the side of reason for once.

_"Stiles…there is one thing you and I are not short on and that is money."_

Stiles couldn't help but grin at that. "Alright, but it's got a lovely spare room so you'll have no argument for when I invite our friends over. I'm sure Lydia will want to stay over as soon as possible so she can rant about our horrible decorating abilities and then proceed to sneak around the apartment to try to find my writings."

"_Fine, fine,"_ Derek agreed in a rough voice. _"Just get the damn place."_

"Don't snap at me, Hale," Stiles warned, glaring at the phone, knowing Derek couldn't see him. "Quit being grumpy. I know I'm taking longer than I said but I had a few things at home to take care of."

_"It's been over a week, Stiles,"_ Derek whined, and Stiles could hear the frown on his face.

"You know, if I told Scott or Allison that you just said that in that voice without joking they wouldn't believe me. No one ever believes me that deep down you're addicted to cuddles and go through withdrawl when I can't be with you."

A beat of silence. _"Shut up."_

"I miss you too."

Derek sighed across the line, unimpressed. _"If you really missed me you'd be on a plane right now."_

Stiles couldn't help but laugh at that. "Actually I'm standing around our soon-to-be-apartment and I already feel like I'm home. It's just missing you."

_"You really like it that much?"_

"I really do," Stiles admitted, glad Derek couldn't see the blush that crept up onto his face. "I look into the kitchen and I can see you making super while I'm leaning against the counter babbling, that ridiculous apron that Laura bought you and that look of peace you get when you're making things. In the living room I can see you reading while I watch my shows, my feet in your lap. I look into the bathroom and I see two sinks, perfect for our morning routines. I can see you brushing your teeth in there already. And good Lord, the bathtub and shower…just big enough for two. And Derek, my favorite room is the bedroom because you'd already be here if you knew what I could see there."

Derek scoffed but Stiles just grinned. _"Really that perfect?"_

"Peter's list of possible places was good…this was his favorite too. I think…yeah, I think this is perfect."

_"About Peter…he, uh…well he was talking to my parents," _Derek began, suddenly quite serious sounding. _"He told them I was getting an apartment with my…boyfriend…and Mom wasn't very happy when she heard Laura and Peter have met you but neither of my parents have."_

"Oh," Stiles said, pausing to look out the window where the woods grew behind the building. He bit his lip. "So we're doing this? We're at the _meet the parents_ part?"

_"Not if you don't want to,_" Derek said but his voice was confident and calm. Stiles could see right through him.

"Of course I want to meet your family," Stiles announced. "My dad wants to meet you too. Perhaps at separate times though?"

Derek just hummed in agreement, clearly pleased. _"I'll see you tomorrow?"_

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles laughed pulling himself away from the window. "I'll get things fixed over here and then double check my flight info."

_"I'll see you then…love you."_

"Love you too," Stiles replied before ending the call. He spun in a circle, taking the apartment in one last time before smiling wide to himself and heading for the door.

* * *

**And...yay Stiles told him the truth! I get really tired of reading things where a character has a big secret and then the other character finds out accidentally before the first character was going to tell them and it makes a big misunderstanding and a loss of trust and...Well this just seemed more Stiles and Derek, ya know? **

**Anyway...let me know what you think! I appreciate it guys :) Take care**


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